The Shipwreck Pirates: Jaggerjaw Island
by Disciple of Bob
Summary: A humble handyman forced to be captain by the crew, a flamboyant actor as first mate, a pyromaniac gunner, a sociopathic chef, and an addict doctor. Thrown together on their first adventure as a crew on an island of feuding fishmen. Can a man thrown into the seas of adventure swim with or against the current? Or will he be swept away by the tides of danger? The first arc of many.
1. The Calm

**Somewhere on the North Blue Sea**

Lookout duty on a ship, any ship, was, for the most part, peaceful and relaxing. High in the crow's nest, any sailor could take some time for himself high above the hustle and bustle of the everyday routine on the deck below. Swabbing the deck, hoisting the sails, moving cargo, tying down the rigging, all of the menial tasks one would normally be subjected to could be ignored in favor of a breathtaking view of the deep blue sea. Probably no other place on the average ship was quieter.

Michael hated lookout duty almost as much as he hated quiet.

None of said tasks were taking place down below. Takashi and the Doc were both holed up in their respective territories: the galley and what would amount to a poorly setup clinic. Doc was probably passed out drunk at this point, and Takashi was either cooking, meditating, or both. It wasn't worth interrupting either just because Michael was bored. The "Pansy" as Michael knew him was in the captain's quarters probably folding his panties or something. The Captain himself was hanging off the side of the ship off some sort of rope and pulley contraption, sitting on the side of the ship like it was a bloody park bench. He was fixing up some of the holes in this poor excuse for a boat. They didn't even have a single cannon or ounce of gunpowder on board, leaving Michael all the more bored out of his skull. If something didn't happen soon he'd probably end up leaving a few more holes in the ship for the captain to fix.

Oh well, even if he didn't have a cannon to practice with, there was nothing but ocean for as far as the eye could see except that one ship on the horizon.

Wait...

Michael grinned widely and rushed down to the deck. Things were about to perk up a bit around here, and he wanted to see personally how the new Captain would react.

* * *

_My name is Hammie, and I'm writing this... well, I'm not sure why I'm writing this. I'd say it was because I think I might die soon, but really, what good would a journal like this do? It's not like I'll have my own tomb where some historian a hundred years from now will be researching the famous Captain Hammie and search for the journal of my travels. My brother, on the other hand..._

_I think that's the reason I'm on this journey; family, that is. Nothing against my stepmom, I'll always be grateful to her, but for some reason, that hasn't been enough for me. My birth mother is probably dead, that I can't help. But my father's still alive, and I should at least meet him before one of us dies. Not that I'm expecting any sort of long-lost father-son reunion where we catch up and play baseball, I just want to know who he is. Just meeting him would satisfy my curiosity. However, the Grand Line isn't a place one just waltzes right into. You're either one of the best sailors in the world or you have a military escort._

"Hey Cap'n, looks like the Navy's catchin' up to us. Want I should open fire with our cannons, y'know, all zero of 'em?"

_And I was really hoping for the latter until recently too..._

The small, wooden platform that allowed Hammie to repair the side of the boat (as well as get some privacy for his thoughts), consisted of a wooden plank suspended by ropes on either side connected to a quickly rigged-up pulley system. Between leaving port nearly a day ago and now, Hammie had put together the contraption, as the hull of the boat needed repairs badly. Luckily there had been an overabundance of spare lumber and other supplies to spare the ship. It used to be a short-range supply boat before Hammie and company had hastily borrowed it in their getaway.

Michael assisted Hammie in pulling up the contraption. Once he was back on deck, Hammie wasted no time in looking for the slowly closing-in ship in the distance. Even from here, however, he could make out two things: the navy's colors, and the fact that the approaching ship was at least four times the size of this dinghy. "We're sunk, aren't we?"

"Seems that way, Cap'n."

* * *

**Marine Ship**

Captain Douglas stood confidently on the edge of his ship, letting the wind blow in his face while he observed the small stolen supply boat his ship was rapidly approaching. His uniform marine jacket was open and blowing in the wind to reveal his shirtless, perfectly toned chest. With his clean chestnut haircut, pretty-boy looks that somehow managed to stay masculine, and the sculpted muscles on his 6 foot frame, he seemed more like a poster boy for the marines than an actual captain. In fact he was, having been the centerpiece for three promotional campaigns for recruiting bright-eyed navy cadets as well as being "Mr. January" on the Official Navy 'Handsome Marine Hunks' calendar.

As Douglas maintained his stance, currently indistinguishable from his camera poses, a much younger preteen approached him and enthusiastically gave his report. "Captain Douglas, sir! We're nearing firing range, shall we load the cannons?"

Without breaking a stride, the captain replied in a deep, commanding voice reminiscent of a superhero. "No, prepare to board. We're going to give them a chance to surrender first."

"But sir! They're pirates! Why don't we just blow them out of the water?"

Douglas turned around to face the eager young boy and smiled. "We're not here to kill anyone, Chapa. Our primary goal is to retrieve the stolen ship for the poor merchant who lost it to begin with and then capture the pirates alive if possible." Seeing the boys look of confusion at restraint, Douglas tried to clarify, "Contrary to what you might hear in the navy, our top priority is not to blow every pirate we see out of the water. We have the safety and security of civilians to worry about first, and we should try to capture pirates alive for a fair trial whenever possible."

Chapa hesitated for a bit, processing the information from his superior in his mind, before suddenly perking up and saluting, "Sir, yes, sir!"

Douglas nodded, "Good, now go report to First Mate Vezzali and make sure she's ready to lead the boarding party."

"No need, sir, I'm already prepared." Now stepping up to the captain and the cabin boy was a thin woman in an elegant white fencing uniform, complete with rapier in one hand and the helmet in the other, for now revealing her long, raven-colored hair and dark-skinned feminine features. "First Mate Valentina Vezzali reporting for duty. The men are prepared for boarding whenever you give the command."

"Good, hopefully they won't be necessary."

* * *

"DAMNIT!" Hammie was running around the entire ship, heading into various compartments only to emerge seconds later, tugging at every rope in vain, and exploring every aspect of the ship. "Isn't there any way to make this thing go faster?"

Michael, meanwhile, sat calmly against the mast. "How should I know? I don't steer these things, I shoot 'em (when we actually have stuff to shoot 'em with that is.)" He pulled out two rather large pistols and checked their basic workings, getting them ready for the inevitable clash with the Navy. "Even if this boat was in tip-top shape, not that I don't appreciate the effort mind ye, we ain't outrunnin' a full-throttle Navy pursuit ship. I suggest ye get yer stretches in before the fightin'. Ye **can **fight, can't ye, Cap'n?"

"Not... how many soldiers are there again?"

Michael lazily picked up the telescope at his side and peeked at the now much closer Navy ship. "Well, judgin' by the people on deck ready to board, I'd say aboot fi'ty gi'er take."

"Not fifty soldiers! You'd have to be some kind of monster to take on that many armed marines!"

"Then I hope ye have a little monster in ye, Cap'n, because fi'ty soljers is nothing compared to what you'll be facing on the Grand Line."

Hammie stopped running around, partially because he knew he needed to keep a cooler head, partially because he was out of breath. "We could talk to them, convince them it was all a misunderstanding? Maybe they'll listen to reason?"

"Ye ain't dealt with marines before, have ye Cap'n?

* * *

"The boarding party is ready, Captain Douglas."

Douglas stepped out in front of his men and surveyed their ranks. The navy soldiers all stood at attention with rifles in hand and sword at their side. "Good work. This is the sign of a good ship: the organization and courage of its crew. This is what makes me proud to be your Captain." Douglas shed an almost cliche tear.

* * *

Hammie had given up on finding some sort of win button on the boat and had now taken to pacing in front of Michael, considering any remaining options. "Where the hell is everyone? They'll be here any minute!"

"The Doc's passed out drunk on his desk. Ye can try to wake him if it makes ye feel accomplished an'all, but he ain't gettin' up in that state. Takashi's closed himself off in the galley cookin'."

"So get him up here, we're under attack!"

Michael paused in his preparations to slowly stare up and look Hammie straight in the eye. "You tell 'im."

Hammie briefly considered his first meeting with his new 'cook'. After the chill was done running down his spine, he rethought his original plan. "... Maybe we'll just leave him alone for now. I'm sure if things get really serious, he'll come out and help."

"Good thinkin', Cap'n." Michael resumed the maintenance of his pistols, if they could indeed be classified as such.

"Well, what about Jude?"

"Door was locked. If ye ask me, guy who dresses like a girl would only get in the way in a real fight."

"Hey, Jude can handle himself in a fight, even if he does go overboard with the theatrics. Probably why he's not out here yet." Hammie knocked and tugged on the cabin door, but it was locked tight, and no one was answering. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know but you better do it now." Michael lazily pointed behind Hammie. The captain turned around to see that not only had the navy ship caught up with them, it was now side-by-side with their own ship, and about fifty armed soldiers stood ready on deck with who Hammie could only assume to be their captain standing in front.

"... Shit."

* * *

Captain Douglas eyed the two supposed 'pirates' on the deck of the boat (which he could swear he saw pieces of flow gently past his ship as driftwood) and wondered which was the captain of this motley crew before arbitrarily deciding that neither could be. The first guy, sitting with bad posture against the mast, had skin so tanned it looked like it was sunburned too many times over and bright, red hair, no, stubble growing out of his head. The front portion of his hair, no, stubble and eyebrows were missing altogether, as if they had been singed off or something. He didn't wear a shirt, but it seemed he made up for it in fabric by wearing overly baggy pants, which Douglas couldn't help but note the poor quality of. This guy needed a tailor.

The second guy on deck looked even less like captain material. Granted, he wasn't a sloppy mess like the first, but he was just so, so plain and unnoticeable. Black t-shirt, jeans, sneakers, leather gloves, a tool belt. It was safe to say Douglas had an eye for good looks from his modeling years, though he usually kept quiet for fear of his men thinking he was subject to the "don't ask, don't tell" policy in the navy. The second guy's face and build weren't bad. Little plain, sure, but he seemed to be pretty muscular, at least when compared to the first guy. Innocent, boyish looks meant he was probably pretty young or at too innocent to lose that naive look in his eye. This only supported Douglas's suspicion that maybe these "pirates" were just victims of circumstance, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, at least for the captain and maybe one or two others on board.

Nevertheless, he was a captain of the marines, and he did have certain duties that had to be fulfilled before deciding the guilt or innocence of men. Douglas shouted out in a commanding voice (for he had no need of a megaphone) "In the name of the marines, I must speak with the 'captain' responsible for pirating this vessel."

To Douglas's surprise, it was the second guy who spoke up, albeit in a voice so soft Douglas could barely make out what he was saying. "I... er, guess that'd be me, sir."

Douglas noted the confused murmuring among the men. These were bloodthirsty pirates, right? Then why did their captain seem so nice and respectful? The general consensus was that the pirate was just intimidated by their glorious captain or that he was scheming something.

Clearing his throat, Douglas, in his most impressive voice, declared, "You have been charged with theft of a seafaring vessel, escape from federal custody, and resisting arrest."

Douglas couldn't quite hear, but the shirtless one muttered something to the effect of "That all? Seems kind o' lighter than usual."

"This is your one and only warning. Surrender peaceably and I'll go easy on you. Resist, and I'll have no choice but to use as much force as necessary and prosecute you to highest degree possible." From the back of the marines, the soft sound of applause reached Douglas's ears. Chapa must have gotten overexcited again.

The pirate 'captain' scratched the back of his head in thought. "Well, to be honest, I'd rather not go to jail, sir. Could you maybe, I dunno, let us off with a warning or something?"

Much more audible than Hammie's voice or the slight applause of Chapa in the back was the unanimous face-fall of the entire marine boarding party.

"I..." Douglas, taken aback, actually had to struggle with his words for once, "I don't think that's a possibility."

"Look, if it's about the boat, we can give it back to you. Once we reach the next island of course. Wherever that is."

Completely missing the obvious flaw in logic here, if for no other reason than sake of time, Douglas continued in what was now a calm conversation. "Well, look, um... what was your name, son?"

"Hammie, sir."

"Captain Hammie." _Not even on the bounty list._ "You've committed some pretty serious crimes here. If it was just the boat theft we might be able to negotiate, but you broke out of prison with several convicted felons who are now sailing under your command."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't know most of them before me and my brother got thrown in jail, and we didn't do anything illegal, I think, either. Before getting thrown in prison I mean, sir. I'd much rather, you know, NOT be a fugitive of the law. Sir."

Douglas stroked his chin thoughtfully. _As I thought. The captain and... his brother I guess, aren't pirates, they're just fall guys for the real pirates. If I can just get them to come peaceably we can solve the confusion, he and his brother can go freely and the real pirates will serve their sentence._ "Well, listen Hammie. I think--"

A fireball erupted on the good captain's chest as he fell backwards onto the deck. Hammie turned around at Michael, who was holding the still smoking gun. "Michael!"

"Yer welcome, Cap'n. Thought he'd ne'er shut up." Michael grinned as he cocked the gun. While Hammie stood slack-jawed and eyes widened in a disbelief, a slender marine wearing a fencing uniform called for the attack as the soldiers began the siege, screaming curses at the foul, treacherous pirates.

_To Be Continued_


	2. The Storm

_A fireball erupted on the good captain's chest as he fell backwards onto the deck. Hammie turned around at Michael, who was standing and holding the still smoking gun. "Michael!"_

"_Yer welcome, Cap'n. Thought he'd ne'er shut up." Michael grinned as he cocked the gun. While Hammie stood slack-jawed and eyes widened in a look of disbelief, a slender marine wearing a fencing uniform called for the attack as the soldiers began the siege, screaming curses at the foul, treacherous pirates._

* * *

As the first wave of marines prepared their grappling hooks, another line of soldiers aimed their rifles at the two pirates on deck and fired. Fortunately for Hammie and Michael, their aim was poor. It was enough to make Hammie duck and cover, however, as five marines grappled their lines and swung over.

Michael was somewhat less intimidated as he waved what looked like twin oversized flintlock pistols. "As cute as ye soljer boys are with yer pea shooters, let me show you how a man takes his gun..." Without even taking a moment to aim, two more explosions of smoke and gunpowder erupted from his pistols, the sheer force of which kept two boarding soldiers from even reaching the boat and tumbling down into the water below. "...With a big, loud BOOM!" Twirling the guns, he grinned excitedly at the marine ship. "Keep 'em comin' ye pansies! Today's a slow day fer Mikey, and I got plenty more smokin' holes for ye!"

Meanwhile on the other side of the ship, Hammie looked out from behind the mast to see two soldiers rushing towards him while Michael made very, very sure that diplomacy was no longer an option. "Oh crap. Look, I'm really sorry about your boss-"

"DIE PIRATE SCUM!" One soldier swung his sword at Hammie's head. Hammie instinctively ducked, and the sword embedded itself deep in the mast, knocking loose one of the nailed-on wooden boards. Instantly, Hammie's demeanor changed. His eyes widened with anger and his muscles tensed. Looking at the damage to the ship, Hammie started twitching and slowly turned to the attacking marines. The second soldier never got a swing at Hammie.

"I..." With one punch, Hammie knocked the sword out of the second soldier's hand and grabbed him by the throat. "Just..." With his other hand, Hammie grabbed the second soldier before he could get his sword back out of the mast. "FIXED THAT!" With one heavy swing, Hammie hurled the two soldiers back towards their boat, knocking down two of the firing squad as well in the process.

The soldiers Hammie threw got up and tried to swing back over, but Hammie stood firm. "Oh hell no. You clumsy bastards stay off my ship!" Hammie drew a hammer from one pocket and a handful nails from the other. Throwing a nail in the air with one hand, Hammie swung his hammer around like a baseball bat, hitting the nail square on the head and sending it hurling with the velocity of a bullet at the other ship. The nail struck the rope a soldier was using to swing over, driving it into the wood. The soldier hadn't noticed the nail, and as much force he tried, his rope simply wouldn't swing over. Hammie repeated the attack several times, pinning ropes into the wood, along with navy uniforms and weapons, effectively pinning the soldiers to their own ship. Occasionally, a nail would strike flesh and a soldier would find himself with a fresh new piercing. Between Hammie and Michael, no new soldiers were advancing on the ship, either being blown into the water or being stuck to the side of the ship. Hammie couldn't help but notice the routine and looked over at Michael. "Hey, Michael, don't you need to reload those things or something?"

"Cap'n, with all due respect, which is to say not much, who the hell talks about how shit works in the middle of a brawl?" Another soldier, having managed to swing over to the pirate's ship, charged at Michael screaming with his sword held high in a posture that would have made his commanding officer proud. Michael blocked the blade effortlessly with the barrel of his gun, just before glaring at the young marine. "What do ye think this is? Bloody kendo practice?" Michael fired the other pistol, just under where the sword and gun barrel canceled each other out, point blank into the soldier's chest. The explosion from the gun alone made it unclear what the soldier's fate was or where he fell. "As I was sayin', these are me Boomers! Why the hell am I gonna waste time explainin' how they work in the middle of a bloody brawl? All ye have to know is I never have to reload these bad boys!"

Michael pulled the trigger once more at another soldier, though this time the click that usually preceded the explosion was significantly different and louder, yet all-too familiar to only Michael.

"Unless that happens." Michael's Boomer exploded once again, but this time in the opposite direction as the gun misfired, spraying him with his own explosion.

"Michael!" Hammie cried out, but before he could go assist, another round from the still-inaccurate firing squad drew back his attention. "Stop putting holes in my ship!" Hammie hurled a few more nails, this time four at once, hitting them in rapid succession with his hammer and plugging up the barrels of four navy rifles.

First Mate Valentina Vezzali, who up until now had been dreading the outcome of a battle that would seemingly never even start, saw her chance and led a charge. She and five other soldiers swung over to Michael's half of the ship. "Search the rest of the ship for others. I'll hold them off!" Drawing her rapier, she pointed it at the pirate still recovering from his misfired weapon, just letting the tip of the cold blade press against his neck for effect. "Surrender now, pirate! Move a muscle and you won't live to see your own trial."

"Sounds n'awful lot like a challenge, lass." Michael only grinned as the arm with his good gun tensed, getting ready to aim, or at least point in a general direction, and fire despite the sword at his throat. "Sounds like odds I could play too."

Before either could deliver a killing blow, the nearby door to the captain's cabin burst open. "Why don't you stop pointing that at the extra and cross swords with at the main character, **Jude Carson**!" Jude smiled from behind half of a theater comedy mask, letting his long blonde hair flow in and still frame his features perfectly. A white, ruffled collar like those in ancient portraits of nobility adorned his neck and separated his face from his lean body adorned in a red and gold jacket and suit of the finest quality.

A normal person in Michael's position would normally be grateful for someone to take the attention away from someone with a sword pointed at them. Michael was not such a person, and looked back at Jude with disgust. "The bloody hell ye doin' ere? Fight's almost bloody over!"

Jude remained undaunted. "The hero always arrives dramatically late!"

_Is that really Jude Carson?_ Vezzali was glad her fencing uniform included a mask as she could feel the blush at meeting the same beautiful actor's face that adorned her academy dorm posters for years. Momentarily stunned starstruck, she slowly moved her blade away from Michael's throat to accept Jude's challenge. "For your own safety, I must warn you I was the naval academy's fencing champion three years running!" For Vezzali, this was quickly turning out like one of her teenage wet dreams.

Michael shrugged and stood up, the current exchange having lost his interest. "Should o' figured the pansy'd show up to play with the other girls. Now, where'd me targets go?" Casually skipping off, Michael started adjusting the misfired gun as he looked for more patsy soldiers to shoot.

Vezzali's attention remained focus on one target as she hardened her stance. "You've challenged the wrong opponent, handsome. There's no possible way for you to defeat me." Never mind that in this scenario, played out in Vezzali's mind, the best result involved her narrow defeat followed by passionate lovemaking with a sunset backdrop.

Jude only smirked, as if he knew exactly what Vezzali was thinking. "A true hero always prevails against impossible odds. Engarde!"

* * *

Below deck, a door burst open as two soldiers rushed into the room, rifles aimed at the only occupant. "Freeze, scumbag pirate!"

The man in question sat at a desk with his head lying face-down on the desk, his arms limp at his side without a hint of movement.

"I said freeze!" screamed the marine from before.

"He ain't moving," reminded the second.

"Well... shut up!" The two marines cautiously approached the man at the desk. In his current state, his only visible features were his tattered white coat and dark, uncombed hair. The stench of alcohol grew stronger as the marines approached. The figure remained limp.

"Is... is he dead?" Unsure now of whether the body in the room was a pirate or maybe one of the pirates' casualties, the marine poked him with his rifle.

"ZZZzzzZZZzzz" came the loud snore.

"Passed out more like it."

"Maybe, but feel his pulse. It's so weak. He might be dying." After leaning over a bit closer to examine the possible victim, the soldier recoiled in horror, his nose almost turning concave from the stench. "What the hell did this guy drink? Grab his legs, we'll get him to the ship doctor."

* * *

As the two soldiers hauled their nearly comatose captive, the other three soldiers stood outside the galley on the other end of the ship, staring at a piece of paper nailed to the door and taking turns reading what was written down.

"Rule 1: Do not disturb the chef on pain of pissing off the chef."

"Rule 2: Do **NOT** disturb the chef on pain of pissing off the chef."

"Rule 3: Those who piss off the chef do so at their own peril and forfeit their health, safety, and rights to meals."

"Maybe we should go search some other part of the ship first."

"Don't be stupid, we're not here to cater to the cook. We're marines! What's he going to do, make our food taste bad?"

"Not possible with the rations they're serving us now. Besides, even if he was a threat, there's three of us with loaded muskets and one of him. We've got this pirate rat outmanned and outgunned. Now charge!" With that, the three soldiers charged through the galley door.

As Hammie fended off soldiers with hammer and wrench, Jude and Vezzali clashed rapiers, and two soldiers carted off a limp body from below deck, suddenly the aft of the ship exploded upwards in a cloud of wooden shrapnel as three soldiers were hurled screaming into the water. Everyone on both ships was momentarily distracted by the show of force, with the exception of Jude and Valentina, who never lost focus with each other.

Vezzali, so far, was winning with superior swordsmanship. Jude could keep up, but not without losing ground, maintaining a slow retreat until he was pressed up against the ship railing, cornered. "Is that it?" taunted the lieutenant, "I guess I should expect all flash and no substance."

Jude only grinned and bowed. "My dear mademoiselle, flash is far more important than substance as far as the audience is concerned." Gracefully twirling around, Jude cut a nearby rope tied into the rigging, catching hold and riding it up. "Care to take this to the next level?" Vezzali, not one to be outdone, caught a similar rope up to match Jude, both landing on the yard of the topmast. "Don't fall behind on the second act!" The fighting resumed. This time, Vezzali was on the defensive, struggling to keep her balance. Jude, on the other hand, practically glided with grace across the yard of the ship, and suddenly Vezzali was the one being cornered.

On deck, Hammie was fending off soldier after soldier with just the tools at his belt, back to the mast, slowly being surrounded. Suddenly, the soldiers immediately in front of him keeled over, either unconscious or dead; Hammie couldn't tell. Standing behind the most immediate pile of soldiers was a swordsman, clad in a tattered, sleeveless black gi whose long, black hair was tied in one, long ceremonial braid. Both hands held dull katanas, one of which was being slowly lifted toward Hammie's throat.

"T.. Takashi, good to see you out of the kitchen. Um, why is that pointed at me?" Hammie nervously asked the man glaring daggers just beyond the sword pointed at him.

"I thought I was explicit in my instructions regarding my meditation." Takashi replied with unflinching emotion.

"I didn't do anything, I swear! The marines are the ones who went downstairs."

"Marines?" Takashi slowly turned around to see some of the remaining marines nervously eying him. "When did they get here?"

Hammie marveled at Takashi's lack of perception, as a full wave of marines were standing only feet away from Takashi with weapons drawn, equally confused, and only held back by the fact that several of their comrades had fallen immediately when this man arrived. "Didn't you just drop, like, seven of them?"

"I had not noticed. They only draw as much attention as leaves in the wind, and fall just as easily." Takashi's sword moved from Hammie's throat as he turned to face the marines, refocusing his steel glare at those around him. "I cannot train with these distractions."

At that point, each marine within sight of Takashi was thinking about what their respective afterlives would be like, and upon Takashi they couldn't help but see a visage of death. "W.. Who are you?"

"Takashi Nakamura, chef, and the subject of your future nightmares. Those of you who survive that is." With that the swordsman rushed forward as more marines were hurtled overboard.

On one of the few spots on deck without a huge brawl, the two soldiers carted the limp body over to transfer him back to their ship for medical attention. The sudden two clicks of Michael's Boomers made them freeze in their tracks. "Get yer own doc!" Two large explosions and two screaming soldiers in the water later. "Bloody pirates."

The carted body, having fallen on the deck in close proximity of two explosions, slowly sat up and yawned, rubbing his head in pain. "Oi, the hell is with all the racket?"

"We got it covered up here, Doc. Go back to sleep an' get yer beauty rest, not that it ever did ye any good."

Doc clumsily pulled himself up on deck, clutching and rubbing his head, and surveyed the area. "Haven't even had my morning bloody mary yet and already I have to clean up your mess. Let me go get Annie." The doctor shuffled off back below deck, even as Hammie, Takashi, and Michael fended off more soldiers on the deck, marines left without direction as the captain was still unconscious and the first mate was off crossing swords and words with Jude. After a few minutes of fiddling around beneath deck, the same doctor with a new and unrecognizable energy, leaped out from below deck wide-eyed and grinning. Doc spun around a two-handed sledgehammer, bringing it down into a cluster of marines, screaming and laughing as he jumped into the fray. "Heeere's Annie!"

The sledgehammer slammed into the deck, the shockwave hurling soldiers in every direction. Now, even though more and more soldiers were joining the battle, some even climbing back up out of the ocean, they were being beaten back by not one, but four beasts of human beings. The Doc had a new, maniacal energy to his movements swinging around a sledgehammer with frightening ease and without any regard to his own safety. Sure, several soldiers landed hits and cuts on the Doc, but he didn't even seem to notice. Takashi's swords graced through the air, cutting through marines like butter. Few of the inflicted wounds seemed to be lethal, but Takashi didn't seem to care whether or not marines were killed or just injured. Hammie fought more conservatively, having to guard the ship just as much as himself from attacks. Michael had his back up against the mast, blowing up one soldier after another. Eventually, the herd started to thin, until the troops no longer even bothered to approach Michael.

In fact, none of the pirates were even being approached anymore. They were still boarding the ship, but none dare approach the pirates, instead forming a circular perimeter around them. Hammie, Michael, Takashi, and the Doc were now standing back-to-back at the soldiers around them.

"Aw, come on. Ye done already? Sure ye don't want Mikey to send the lot of ye fer another swim?" Michael bellowed out in laughter at the cowarding marines.

While Takashi, Doc, and Michael didn't show any sign of exhaustion, Hammie could barely breathe from all the action. "Does... does this mean we're done here? Can we go yet?"

Takashi's stance never wavered as he responded, "I believe this one does not intend this battle to end so easily." Right in the middle of the four pirates, with no clue or explanation as to how he got there, was the cabin boy of the marines. It also seemed the other three hadn't noticed his presence until Takashi pointed him out.

Chapa, unarmed and infuriated, stood in his own fighting stance between the four pirates. "You fought dirty! In a fair fight, the captain would have wiped the floor with you!"

"Well, it's a good thing he's lyin' in a pool of 'is own drool, now ain't it?" One pistol trained on the marine crowd, Michael turned his other pistol towards the boy. "Now why don't ye go on home to yer ma. This here's a grown-up party."

"You won't get away with this! I won't let you!"

Michael simply laughed in response. "An' what are ye goin' to do about it? Four of us plus Fruitcake up there versus a bunch of sissy-boy marines and a cabin boy? Almost ain't worth it. No way ye can beat us kid."

* * *

_Several minutes later...._

* * *

"How the bloody hell did we get beat by a kid?!" Hammie and the rest of the pirates now sat on the marine ship deck, tied with hands behind their backs, beaten and bruised. Michael himself was constantly struggling against the bonds and complaining as loudly as possible.

"Speak for yourself, I aced my performance." Jude remained unphased and smiled at the other four proudly. "'Twas the four of you who were upstaged by a preteen."

"Oh go sort yer panties, ye fruitcake. The lot of ye should be ashamed of yerselves, gettin' beaten by a child."

Hammie tried to mediate and calm Michael down. "You lost just as much as the rest of us, Michael." His efforts only got Michael more heated.

"Quit changin' the subject! Yer the captain, ye should be takin' full responsibility."

"You made me the captain!"

"Once again, changin' the subject."

"Ugh, shut up already, I need to nurse a hangover." Doc was leaning over, bags under his eyes and looking generally pale. Reaching his foot over, Doc tried to nudge one of the guards with his foot, "Excuse me, can I just get my medication... er, medications, rather?"

"Pipe down, pirate scum or I'll execute you right here."

"Geez, give me a break. Aren't their conventions or rules against this kind of prisoner treatment?"

Takashi remained silent while the others argued. Michael, loudest of all, was just looking for excuses to agitate the guards at this point. "Great, now they're goin' through our stuff."

Futile as it was, Hammie couldn't help but refute. "None of that stuff is ours anyway! Stolen, remember?"

"And that just makes 'em worse cause they're stealing what's rightfully stolen by us."

The two went back and forth for a bit. Jude cut in with a quip whenever he felt it was appropriate, which was often. Takashi remained silent, eyes closed, and Hammie was pretty sure he was asleep. Doc was feeling worse by the second, and the noise around him wasn't helping. "Quiet, already! You're rocking the boat and making me nauseous."

"I'm feeling a bit seasick myself actually," Hammie's vision started to blur as the boat rocked back and forth. "Are all marine boats this unstable?"

"It is not the boat," Takashi's eyes shot open, gaze focused straight ahead on the horizon, "It is the sea that is disturbed." Hammie, confused, squinted his eyes and looked in the same direction as Takashi. Sure enough, there was a small lump in the ocean on the horizon, quickly getting larger. The bigger it got, the more the boat rocked, until Hammie, the captive crew, and the marines knew with dread what was coming, until one marine screamed out what everyone was thinking.

"SEA KING!"

The small lump in the ocean grew larger and larger, giant black fins thrusting out of the water as the singular wave parted to make way for a large, thin, barely visible monstrosity, its nose cutting through the ocean like a sword.

Marines scrambled to get back to their ship, but to no avail. The now unstable ocean had severed any ties between the two ships making crossing over to be impossible. On the marine ship, Hammie and his crew sit bound and helpless with a few panicked marines on deck, while the majority of the marines, including their captain and first mate, were stuck on the small vessel trying desperately to stay on board.

"Well, 'Cap'n', got any bright ideas to get us out o' this one?" Michael was currently resigned to his fate, but was determined to at least get the last word. After all, he got so many of the others.

Hammie shrugged his shoulders. "Since you asked." And proceeded to get up, toss his now loose ropes to the floor and dust himself off. Doc laughed out loud before his face recoiled and went back to throwing up.

Jude simply smiled knowingly. "A good dramatic reveal. I'll make a main character out of you yet, dear brother."

Michael stared mouth wide open. "Bloody mother-" A roaring splash cut off the rest. Hammie quickly moved to the ropes binding his crew. "All right! Maybe ye aren't so pathetic after all!" Hammie loosened one end of Michael's rope and strung it around the mast, repeating the process for the others. "Hey, aren't ye going to untie me?"

"Not unless you're a really good swimmer." Hammie took the ropes that were binding himself and threw them to the nearby marine guards. "Secure yourselves to something if you want to live!" If the marines were going to protest, they were cut off by another roaring splash over the deck, and that was all the motivation they needed to take the advice and assistance. "Hold on tight!" Hammie, with no rope to hold himself, leapt and threw his arms and legs around the mast, locking them together.

Not a split second later, the giant Sea King blasted just between the two ships. Up closer, Hammie could now make out the beast. It was extremely thin from the front, but the large sides revealed a smooth metallic hide, large red reptilian eyes, and a mouth twice the length of the marine ship with rows of teeth as long as oars. Although the Sea King was passing between the ships without clipping them, it still seemed to cut the ocean in two and hurled the ships in opposite directions.

The marine ship launched hundreds of feet up into the air. Hammie couldn't tell if the ship was riding one large wave or if they were actually falling through the air. Either way, Hammie braced himself as the whole ship hit the water hard. The others were bouncing around like yo-yo's from the impact. The marines were letting out high-pitched screams while Michael actually cheered loudly as if he was on a thrill ride. Hammie was just glad that the ship wasn't flipping over. Else it wouldn't matter if they land in the water. Hell, it might not anyway if the impact damaged the ship enough.

There was a brief pause in the air as gravity seemed to vanish for a split second as the ship reached the apex of its launch. Now came the terrifying descent which may become the last moments of their lives. Suddenly the problem was not keeping on the deck, as that task was now impossible. Pirate and marine alike right were now being pulled from the ship as much as physics could take them. The only thing keeping the people to the ship were the ropes and, in Hammie's case, a lot of upper and lower body strength. The ascent was painfully long, but the descent was short, quick, and merciless.

Everyone slammed hard against the deck from the impact, except for Hammie who swore he felt his limbs rip off, and their ears were temporarily deafened from the huge splash. For a second, Hammie was looking into a wall of water formed from the crater. The crew bounced a few times as the ocean righted itself, but after initially being slammed into the deck, no one could even feel the remaining trauma.

Minutes later, when the marines awoke from their concussions, they were piled together on a rowboat with a large pile of oars, watching their old marine ship sail away in the distance. "Don't worry, men! Once we regroup with the rest of the troupe, we'll catch up to those pirates in their own and they won't stand a chance." As they neared the other ship, a piece of oddly-shaped driftwood caught the eye of the few marines. "Is that a rudder?" The rest of the troupe watched blankly as the rudder of the ship they were rowing to gently drifted by. "QUICKLY, MEN! AFTER THAT DRIFTWOOD!"

Michael gazed through the telescope amusing himself with the marine's situation. He had to put the telescope down and look again. "Why is'a rudder driftin' away from that ship?"

"Oh, that." Hammie was busy repairing all the hull damage from the impact. "I dismantled the rudder from the ship in case they captured us and we needed some extra time."

"So what were we suppos'd to do to if we hadn't got kicked off the ship? Sail away without a rudder?"

"I could've fixed it."

"A broken-off rudder on a ship at sea?"

"I didn't say it would've been easy, but I could still fix it."

"Sure ye could, cap'n." Michael truthfully believed Hammie could do such a task from the feats of construction skill he'd seen earlier. "Speak'n of rudders, if ye turn the ship just a wee bit I could use those soljer boys for target practice."

Hammie sighed. "No, Michael. You're not going to blow up the marines we just let go."

Michael leaned backwards until he was staring at Hammie upside down. "Aw, c'mon. I just got meself a new set of cannons, and they can't chase us from the bottom of the ocean."

"Not. The. Point."

"Well, you fix up the ship, I'm gonna go turn us a lil' starboard and give us a lil' cannon fire music to work for." Michael moved to stand up, but a small fist punched him back down.

"The captain said no! Now sit back down before I keelhaul you like the scurvy dog you are!" came a high-pitched voice just out of Michael's view.

Michael looked back up in annoyance at his attacker before turning to Hammie. "All right, who the bloody hell just earned themselves an ass-whuppin?!

Hammie turned to see a smiling, petit woman waving to him in front of a seven-foot tall grimacing blue man. "Okay, not that I'm complaining, but who are you?"

_To Be Continued_


	3. The Aftermath

"_The captain said no! Now sit back down before I keelhaul you like the scurvy dog you are!" came a high-pitched voice just out of Michael's view._

_Michael looked back up in annoyance at his attacker before turning to Hammie. "All right, who the bloody hell just earned themselves an ass-whuppin?!_

_Hammie turned to see a smiling, petite woman waving to him in front of a seven-foot tall grimacing blue man. "Okay, not that I'm complaining, but who are you?  
_

* * *

Jude would gravitate from the captain's closet to the first mate's room, the former for clothes the latter to compare his image in a mirror to a poster of himself on the first mate's wall. Doc was busy getting acquainted with the old captain's private liquor cabinet since Takashi had holed himself up in the kitchen, and if anyone who would have had the misfortune of being in there when he entered would have either escaped or been killed as part of Takashi's meditations. Luckily, the only things being butchered in there were fish and vegetables.

The rest of the ship had been scoured from top to bottom, with Hammie looking for materials to repair the ship and Michael looking for combustible items and things to shoot out of cannons. Neither were very picky. So the fact that the entire ship had basically been searched top to bottom and any remaining marines were now in a rowboat and almost out of sight made the origin of two strangers on the deck of the ship a mystery and a concern.

Standing in front was a petite young woman, whose height made her seem younger, but her chest betrayed her age. She stood waving hello with a goofy smile on her face with her pale green hair tied back in a bright yellow ribbon. She wore a simple but feminine green jacket over a striped tank-top, short shorts, and tennis shoes. "Oh, hi Cap'n. I'm Wendy Watterman."

Directly behind her, standing perfectly still and straight with finned, muscular arms folded, was a seven-foot tall blue-skinned man. His arm alone was about as thick as the girl's waist, and the rest of his body was just as ridiculously muscular. His black leather jacket had its sleeves ripped off in the most manly way possible, as if the sleeves had combusted just from the goliath flexing his muscles. One shoulder had a bandage wrapped around it. Not even his polka-dot swim trunks or flip-flops could detract from this epitome of masculinity. When one's eye finally scaled up the blue behemoth's body, they would look straight across the massive, sharp nose which bridged all the way up his forehead into two piercing yellow eyes which glared back in the ultimate 'what are you lookin' at' stare. His long, black hair was tied back in a ponytail around the sharp dorsal fin resembling a sword on his upper back.

"And this..." continued the petite girl, "...is Brody Martin. Nice to meet ya!" She bowed in respect as her every word dripped with a bubbly vigor not often found in the presence of a marauding pirate crew or a hulking fishman, both of which now stared each other off.

After a second, she elbowed the fishman behind her, who reluctantly unfolded his arms and did the same. "Same here, Cap."

"Okay..." Hammie was rendered almost as speechless as Michael, who started twitching, "Well, not to be rude, but how did the two of you get here? We didn't find anyone else aboard the ship."

"Though if ye like we can get ye a head start on the rest of 'em and shoot the both of ye out of a cannon."

"Down, Michael."

"Well, it's like this..." Wendy replied, "Brody and me were kind of on our raft when that big mean La Espada came over and destroyed it."

"La Espada?" Hammie scratched his head in confusion.

"Oh, sorry. La Espada is the local sea king. Kind of looks like a sword, cuts through the ocean like a knife through buttered roast chicken."

Hammie recalled not minutes ago the giant, near two-dimensional sea king with a metal sheen to its scales that near destroyed both ships. "Appropriate name...."

"Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, La Espada hit us head-on and we were sent flying!" Wendy flailed her arms in illustration, "When we finally fell back down, your ship broke our fall. So thanks a bunch for saving us! Cool story, huh?"

"Um, yeah, sure," Hammie wasn't sure he agreed, "If you ignore the part where we couldn't have saved you on purpose, or that this isn't our ship, or how on earth you would've survived the impact..."

"This isn't your ship?" Wendy's eyes sparkled as she looked around in eagerness, "So does this mean that you're, like, pirates or something?"

"Yer damn right, we're pirates ye dumb lass," Michael interjected, still thinking with the bump on his head. "Do ye know what happens when ye bonk a bloodthirsty pirate on 'is head? DO YE?"

"COOL!" Wendy started squealing with fan girl delight and poking her nose around the ship before even registering the rest of Michael's words. "Oh, sorry about the little tap on the head. I was kind of getting caught up in the whole 'tough pirate' bit. It's really fun!"

"FUN?! Listen ye lil'..." Before Michael could start pummeling the girl, the large blue Brody stepped between the two.

"Yo, keep your mitts to yourself unless you want a beatin' ya punk!"

"Oh, so the big, bad fishstick wants to throw down?" Even though Brody towered over Michael, the latter was already cracking his knuckles in preparation for a brawl. Wendy had to stand between them and Hammie had to grab Michael just to keep the two from brawling.

"You don't wanna mess with me! I'm the baddest fish in the sea!" Hammie had never seen a fishman before, but Brody lived up to the tales he'd heard of them. They were known for inhuman strength and a savage, brutal ferocity only found in sea monsters, and Hammie didn't think that his newest passenger was an exception.

"Screw you, I'm a pirate! I eat fish for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!" While he was restraining Michael from being mauled at the hands of cannon-sized fishman arms, Hammie couldn't help but wonder whether Michael had this same reaction to everything that was larger than him. Luckily, it seemed Brody was easier to talk down than the flailing Michael.

"Now, now, Brody. We have to be nice to our hosts, even if one of them does look like he went bobbing for apples in a grease fire." Wendy gently patted Brody on the chest, and the effect was instantaneous as the fishman's muscles relaxed.

"Easy, Michael. Come on, what would you rather do, break both of your fists on that guy's face or waste ammunition on the open sea?" Michael slowly stopped flailing around, begrudgingly accepting the alternative.

"Fine..." After he was let got by Hammie, Michael went off below deck, "We'll finish this conversation later, fishy."

Hammie sighed in relief, even if the resulting explosions would probably tear apart what was left of the ship.

While Michael stormed off, Wendy sighed in relief and turned to face the captain. "Sorry about that. Brody's kind of... protective."

"But it was Michael-" Hammie was cut off before logic dare intrude.

"Anyway," Wendy interrupted back to her eagerness and energy from before, "So where are we headed, Cap?"

Hammie blinked in confusion. "We?"

"I think what the lady here is tryin' to say," Brody interrupted before Wendy could continue, "is if you would be so kind as to let us on as passengers until we get to a safe harbor, as opposed to having us swim or marooning us on the nearest desert island."

"Oh, well, sure, I guess." Hammie saw no reason not to let the two stay on board, nor did he have any reason to show unkindness. However, he had worse problems than his current passenger load being stuck on a severely damaged marine ship. "But as far as where we're headed to, I'm not exactly sure we're headed anywhere. This ship's in bad shape. I need supplies to make all the necessary repairs, and I'm not sure if we'll even make it to the next island. Hell, I'm not even sure where the nearest island is."

Wendy and Brody looked at each other in confusion. "Don't you have a navigator?"

"Neither my brother nor I know how to navigate a ship. Other than us, there's the Doc, Takashi's a homicidal cook, and Michael says he's a professional cannoneer," As if on cue, one of the cannons below exploded, and for a second Hammie was sure the ship had taken cannon fire from some unseen source. It only took a second to realize Michael had only started venting his frustrations with about twice the necessary gunpowder. "Though I'm pretty sure at this point he's just a sociopath."

"No worries! We can get you to the nearest island no problem!" Wendy quickly climbed up to the aft deck and stood facing the sails. "Ready, Brody!"

In response, Brody went to the steering wheel without even asking the captain first (a detail which gave Hammie some concern) and quickly spun the wheel. The quick turn sent Hammie rolling across the deck, almost throwing him off the ship. "You're going to break the ship in two!"

"Sorry, Cap. Probably shoulda warned ya first. Don't you worry, though, we know what we're doin'." Cupping a hand to his mouth, Brody yelled to Wendy. "Ready!"

Wendy started inhaling as much air as possible, huffing and puffing like she was the big bad wolf. When she absolutely couldn't take in any more air and her skin started to turn purple and blue, only then did she exhale, blowing out a large gust of wind with force not possible for even the strongest man to blow. Yet somehow the petite Wendy was exhaling enough wind to fill the sails of the marine ship. Hammie was jolted once again on the deck, this time from the sheer acceleration of the ship which now had the full force of the winds behind the sails. As Hammie collected himself and stood back up, he looked over the side of his ship to see even more chunks of it missing than before.

"Stop destroying the ship! I need a boat not a pile of driftwood!"

At that exact moment, another cannon with too much gunpowder exploded, only this time the shot broke a new hole in the hull, followed by the cheerful hollering of a celebrating Michael down below. Hammie could only sob in frustration.

* * *

Takashi would not have noticed the brief disturbance in his kitchen if it weren't for some of the ingredients and pots being jerked around the room. His own legs had subconsciously adjusted themselves and compensated to maintain their balance so that he would not be disturbed. That was the benefit to this form of meditation. One had to learn to cope with distraction, to block out all offending noise. This wasn't the absolute silence of a temple antechamber; this was a pirate ship, where the rancor of pirates and the explosion of gunpowder were common. Inside this room, however, was different. Mere hours ago this had been the sloppy kitchen of undernourished marines. Now it was his meditation chamber, and it was not to be disturbed by any outsiders. To do so was to tread on sacred ground. To tread on sacred ground was to invite death itself.

So when the door to the kitchen opened and a whistling melody entered the room, Takashi's eyes snapped open in anger, searching for the soon-to-be corpse.

"Don't mind me, I was just going to grab a bite to eat," Skipping across the room was the young Wendy. His hand steadied on the hilt of the sword, his eyes followed Wendy across the kitchen, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and end her life in one clean blow.

But before the execution could be carried out, Takashi had to confirm the intention behind the crime and that the small list of inalienable commandments was yet still posted on the kitchen door. "Did you not read that which was posted outside?"

"The sign about not disturbing something or other? Yeah, I saw it. Don't mind me though, I didn't know when dinner was so I'll just grab a sandwich or something." Wendy smiled as she picked two slices of bread and a little of whatever was available constructing something remotely edible.

The girl's fate was sealed. This would be an easy kill for Takashi, the only challenge of which would be the angle and strength behind the katana's slash for the cleanest kill. The girl's preoccupation with her last meal would give Takashi all the time in the world to perfect this strike and make the girl's demise a fruitful part of his meditation. He inched the sword out of its sheathe, preparing for the ritualistic kill.

"Ooh, are you the crew swordsman?" Wendy beamed in delight and the gleaming metal, "I heard that every pirate crew has their own swordsman in charge of dueling all the other swordsmen they come across." A man with less focus than Takashi would have groaned at her depiction of his duties and talents and quickly corrected her.

"Indeed, and you have interrupted my training," The girl's ignorance of her transgressions had only partially stalled her demise by catching Takashi off-guard. Normally at the sight of his sword the weak would run in terror only to be cut down from behind.

"That's so cool!" Wendy had finished preparing her meal, "Do you mind if I just sit in the corner and watch? I promise I'll be quiet, and I haven't been to a hibachi restaurant in forever."

Now Takashi was confounded by the girl's innocence as well as her praise. Rarely did someone untaught in the ways of the sword show such respect for its practices.

"Pleeease?" Her wide eyes sparkled with admiration.

Takashi's sword hand finally released its grip, "Very well, but you must stay out of the way and do not make any noise." Wendy grinned in delight and moved over to the far corner where she kneeled to politely enjoy her dinner and show.

His focus returned from the intruder, this time his sword's target centered on a trio of multicolored peppers. Focusing his center, concentrating on the target, adjusting the sword's angle so slightly that only a trained eye would notice the difference. Finally, his arm swung out in one quick clean movement, his sword merely a shining streak in the air as it followed. There was no resistance in the swing. In swordsmanship, this either meant missing the target or, in this case, as each of the peppers fell apart in half from the same angle, a perfect clean hit. Takashi ritualistically returned the sword to its sheathe just as the pepper halves fell apart again, this time into diced bits. A perfect blow.

"WOW! That was amazing!" Wendy who somehow managed to scarf down a large sandwich without so much as a crunch, clapped enthusiastically at the end of what she considered a wonderful trick, "Do you have any sort of cool swordsman title?"

Takashi found it difficult to punish someone so innocent yet respectful of the way of the sword, so instead he found himself answering her question. "I am known as the Iron Chef Takashi Nakamura."

"Cool! What else can you do with that sword?"

Takashi once again could not help but be obliged to answer her question on the meat for tonight's dinner.

* * *

A door swung open and the Doc, leaning on the door frame and the sledgehammer dubbed "Annie", which he was now using as a cane, stumbled over to where Michael was arranging cannons and gunpowder in some destructive version of dominoes.

"Thought ye were gonna go drink yerself to sleep for the rest of our lil' voyage."

"Meh, between the marines, the explosions, and the capsizing, I'll be content to remain conscious but wasted." His hammer thumped against the ground with each step as Doc limped over close to Michael and started speaking in hushed tones, "Besides, I wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot." The rumbling of a cannon Michael pulled across the room to the perfect angle briefly interrupted the conversation.

"What the hell are you pulling?" As he leaned in closer, quickly scanning the room for any of the others, Doc suddenly went from relaxed and wasted to frustrated and sober.

Michael only chuckled in response. "Ye'll have to be more specific. I do quite a bit around here of questionable morality and judgment."

"You know what I'm talking about. It's one thing for the lot of us to sign on to some amateur pirate crew for our kicks, but forcing some kid off the street without a mark against his name to take the title? Our careers with established pirate crews are short enough without making complete greenhorn strangers start up piracy."

"Oh, Doc, ye make it sound like the good Cap'n Hammie's fate was all our doin'."

"Well, we did get him arrested."

Doc of course referred to his, Michael's and Takashi's first meeting with Hammie and Jude. Back on the last island, the three of them had been intercepted in a bar by an entire platoon of marines. The resulting explosions ended up hurling the three pirates on top of two bystanders, who in the confusion were arrested with the pirates. The commanding officer at the time, a rat-faced captain, could care less about the false arrests and, blinded with rage, would have sent the lot of them to prison for life or even executed them right there. Some quick thinking and one quicker jailbreak later, one in which Hammie and Jude had no choice but to participate in, and the five of them were sailing away in the first vessel they could find: a pitiful little trading schooner whose owner was screaming obscenities from the dock as he watched his ship sail off into the distance.

"Aye, and we also got him back out in prison. Ye surely know as well as I do that the poor kid would have rotted for crimes he didn't commit."

"So that justifies forcing him to be a pirate captain? We could have just taken him hostage or, hell, just let the two of them go. They could sort the rest out and not get arrested again. Instead, they both have breaking out of jail, resisting arrest, stealing a vessel, attacking a marine ship (during parlay I might add), and finally stealing said marine ship."

"There were extenuatin' circumstances," Michael shrugged his shoulders in response, "It was unavoidable."

"And now two kids barely old enough to drink are going to rot in prison for the rest of their lives once the marines catch them." Several veins on Doc's forehead bulged in frustration. As heated as his words were, Doc kept his voice low and hushed.

Michael clutched his chest in feigned emotional agony. "Yer words sting me, they really do, Doc," Michael finally paused in his pyrotechnics setup to approach Doc and draped an arm around Doc's shoulder, managing to be simultaneously completely comforting and sarcastic at the same time, "How little faith could ye have in yer shipmate who stuck with ye through thick and thin all these years even when the ship we sailed on and the crew we sailed with changed with the tides? Ol' Mikey has bigger plans in mind."

Even though Doc knew that these insights of Micheal's never ended well, he knew there would be little to nothing he could do to stop it. "All right I'm listening."

"Well Takashi, you and I have had rather unfortunate luck with employers as of late. We used to be feared pirates on the Grand Line. The marines feared us and other pirates respected us. But then it seems we kept getting stuck on pirate crews for which we were overqualified."

"You mean how we were in some way responsible for either sinking the ship in question or getting the rest of the crew slaughtered or captured, or how about the time you slept with one of the captain's daughters and cheated on her with the other."

"Details, details," Michael's hand mimicked his dismissive attitude, "The point being is that somehow we found ourselves scraping lower and lower in the barrel until we somehow got from the Grand Line to the North Blue Sea."

"Yea, so?"

"So? We could barely find pirates of any real comparable caliber to ours on the Grand Line, and here we are stuck in a calmer, gentler, more peaceful sea." The words calmer, gentler, and peaceful were spat out with such a venomous hatred as if Michael was uttering a curse. "On top of that, our names have become curses to other pirates, what with our reputation for causin' mischief an' all, so anyone worth their salt won't hire us, and anyone not worth their salt ain't gonna get us back to the Grand Line anyway. What real chance do we have of finding some illustrious pirate crew not only to fit our standards, but to get us back into the Grand Line?

"So I figure, if we can't find someone to employ us, why not make our own Cap'n?" At this point Michael started getting more animated, excited at this prospect of his. The fact that Michael actually believed what he was saying to be a good idea only served to horrify Doc more, "Start from scratch, toughen him up, get him goin' on the path to piracy as much as we can. After all, with as many captains as we've been under, who better to cultivate a truly great pirate captain than the three of us?"

"Michael," Doc's face was no longer red from anger. Instead he just wore a sad frown as he looked on with pity. "We've known each for a long time. So believe me when I say this is truly the dumbest idea you've ever had," Swiveling Michael around to face him, Doc stared eye-to-eye with Michael, "Ever."

"Oh, screw you. Ye know I'm a bloody genius."

"No. You're not. You're an idiot and this proves it. That kid will never make it to the Grand Line. Hell, he could barely get from one island to the next."

"All right then, put yer money where yer mouth is."

Doc cocked one eyebrow. "A bet?"

"Ye betcher ass. If Hammie can get us to the Grand Line in anythin' short of a pine box, ye owe me 10 rounds of drinks."

Doc folded his arms as he leaned on his walking stick/sledgehammer in thought, but the answer was clear as he could hardly resist the possibility of free booze. "Fine. I say that whatever boat he's on will sink before we can get to the Grand Line."

"Deal." With that, Michael lit the fuse on one of the cannons and both Doc and Takashi ran to the other side of the room behind some barrels for cover, as the firing cannon set off a chain reaction producing the kind of results you'd expect from launching fireworks into indoor barrels of gunpowder.

"I hate you," Doc grumbled, while Michael grinned widely in response.

_To Be Continued_


	4. The Obligatory Flashback

_Two weeks ago..._

_Aboard the Titania Theatre Ship_

Rosalina Carson was considered by some to be an extravagant, flamboyant woman. Sure, she always wore the most detailed of frilled, rose-adorned dresses that danced along with her every step. Her peers envied her flawless grace as well as her long, blonde stylized curls. The truth was she didn't comb her hair; she woke up in the morning looking that way. Her wardrobe merely reflected her taste in style and her seamstress skills, augmented by her experience in costume design so each dress was as opulent as possible yet kept her movements fluid and free. Not to mention each dress hid just enough of her ample curves to keep her male admirers guessing. This was a woman who could make falling on her face look graceful and beautiful, not that she ever did. No one would ever guess she was the mother of two grown boys.

The Titania was Rosalina's pride and joy. A massive galleon adorned with artwork, statues, and gold and marble trim on its every curve. The ship itself was truly a work of art, as a theatre should be. That deck had held many different sets for plays, operas, kabuki, and anything else the troupe could manage. They were no more than a dozen actors and workers and one animal, and yet even with such a small cast and even less of a budget to pay them, the Titania was known throughout the seas for its performances. Rosalina knew that she had two fortunes to thank for that.

The first was of course her son, Jude. Jude grew up for the stage life, and everything he did excelled in it. He was always the hero, the protagonist, the leading man. His flair for drama and his exceptionally good looks practically demanded the spotlight as well, as Rosalina was aware that a good portion of their profits came not from fans of the theatre, but from star-struck teenage girls. Unfortunately, this meant Jude never had the chance to develop a sense of humility.

The other of Titania's blessings was a boy Rosalina only wish she could have given birth to known as Hammie. Born of the same seafaring father as Jude, but of a different woman, one Rosalina would never know. She knew that she should feel jealousy and envy towards said other woman and spite towards the boy, but Rosalina raised Hammie from infancy and could not help but consider him her own child regardless of blood. She hadn't seen the boys' father since the fateful day years ago when he suddenly appeared desperate on her doorstep with an infant in his arms and begged her to look after him. She only knew he was somewhere on the Grand Line, but such is the seafaring life. Jude was three years Hammie's elder, and it showed. While Jude was the man in the spotlight, Hammie was the one manning the spotlight. Hammie was always such a shy but hardworking boy, needing Jude to stand up for him in their younger years. Even though Hammie always showcased real talent when he would fill in on dress rehearsals, he would never take the stage no matter how much Rosalina and Jude tried to make him.

Instead, Hammie made himself comfortable with every facet of the theatre not seen by the audience. He built the sets, engineered the special effects, repaired the boat and anything else that needed to be fixed, and did nearly all the manual labor necessary. Rosalina was never sure of the exact limits of Hammie's strength, as he could carry piles of wood and supplies without assistance, and once he even tugged the ship by himself through the last stretch to the harbor by tying a rope around him to the ship and swimming the rest of the way. Sometimes Rosalina wondered just who Hammie got that strength from anyway.

At the moment, Jude had been practicing a fight scene with a few of the other cast members when he "accidentally" stepped onto some of the set Hammie was painting. A tired and familiar old story to Rosalina. Jude would often provoke Hammie, usually by messing with whatever he was working on, and then the mayhem would begin. Hammie would yell at Jude, Jude would make some snarky quip, the two would fight, and Jude would storm off, while pretending to be offended, to the nearest gathering of young women while Hammie was stuck cleaning up the mess.

Rosalina would have none of it this time. She hoisted a large white megaphone the size of her torso to her lips, a megaphone which would morph her elegant serenade of a voice into a demanding boom. "**JUDE! HAMMIE! IN MY QUARTERS! NOW!**"

* * *

"I can't believe you two. We're less than a week until opening night, the set's only half-finished, and you decide to throw a brawl?"

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'll fix it and finish everything right away." As usual, Hammie bowed his head and took the blame for everything. Rosalina sometimes wished it wasn't this hard to get mad at him. Now she felt like the guilty party for scolding him.

Jude, on the other hand, was less apologetic. "You should be more careful next time, dear brother. If I had suffered a sprain or gotten a blemish on my face, we might have needed to postpone the performance, and my fans would simply not tolerate it."

This, of course, only made Rosalina pull up her megaphone once again in the close quarters and shout at the top of her lungs. "**I DON'T CARE IF YOU BREAK BOTH YOUR LEGS! THE NEXT TIME YOU GO MAKING TROUBLE ON MY SET, YOU'LL BE TAP-DANCING IN TWO MATCHING PLASTER CASTS!" **The wood started to splinter and crack along the walls from the sheer force of the sound and the two young men clutched their ears in agony.

"Now apologize to your brother before I get mad." Hands and megaphone at her hips, Rosalina tapped her foot impatiently.

Jude blinked twice in succession, before his hand reached for his forehead, as he assumed one of his many tragic roles. "Oh, my dear brother," Jude broke out in a high falsetto voice, "My transgressions against you have been many, but this time I have gone much too far," He desperately grabbed Hammie's hands, "Never, never could I atone for this grievous offense against my dear, loving sibling.," Falling to his knees, "Nevertheless, I shan't rest; I shall climb every mountain with a galleon strapped to my chest and swim across every ocean with an anchor strapped to my legs if that is to be my punishment," Finally, Jude broke down into tears and buried his face in Hammie's arm, "Could you find it in the infinite kindness that is your heart to forgive this poor, lowly street performer?"

"Aw, you didn't mean anything by it, Jude. Of course I forgive you." Hammie, as usual, was none the wiser as Rosalina facefell.

"Well, now that that's settled," Jude shot back up with completely dry eyes and demeanor, "I'm going to clean up and visit my adoring fans." With that, Jude was out of the room and off to do his daily schmoozing.

The sad thing to Rosalina was that this was Jude's impression of **bad **acting. "I really should have spanked that boy more as a child," Turning to Hammie, "You shouldn't have to keep cleaning up after everyone here. You aren't the janitor."

"Well, technically I am," Hammie beamed with just a little bit of pride.

"True, but more importantly, you're my son," Rosalina extended a hand to hold her son's face, "I worry about you. There's more to life than work, you know. You don't always have to clean up after everyone else's messes around here."

"Yeah, but if I don't, who will?" Hammie smiled, and Rosalina had no response but to smile back at her son's simple logic.

"I love you," Rosalina embraced her son and hugged him tight.

"I love you too, Mom."

* * *

_Later that day..._

"Are you sure you don't want that delivered? I won't charge extra," The shopkeeper stared at the large man carrying several hundred pounds of lumber over one shoulder and a bag of nails in the other.

"Nah, I'm good. It'll be faster this way," Hammie straightened out the large pile of planks he could only awkwardly grip with his arm and shoulder, but otherwise didn't seem to struggle with the actual weight, "It's kind of a rush job."

"Okay... Well, don't strain yourself," After exchanging farewells, Hammie began the trek back to the ship carrying the large pile of lumber, when a trenchcoat and a black ten-gallon hat blocked his path. It wasn't until further inspection that Hammie noticed there was a man inside the outfit.

"Excuse me, sir, can I get through?"

"Excuse me, young'un," Replied the trenchcoat in a rasp, "But I'm lookin' for a kid goes by the name of Hammie."

"Um... my name's Hammie."

"Bigger'n I thought," The man pulled back his coat to show off two flintlock pistols. "Yer comin' with me, big kid."

Meanwhile, just outside the Titania, hidden among the shadows lay many concealed trenchcoat figures, watching and waiting as their leader whispered directions among them.

"All right, lads, you know what we're here for. The boy gets taken alive, everyone else is fair game."

On cue, the shadows leapt forward and the crowd of trenchcoats stormed the ship, no longer taking care to hide or keep silent. Guns and swords at hand, they charged up the gangplank onto the ship, where they were greeted with an empty, half-finished theatre set.

"What the...? Where is everyone?"

"**I'm afraid you just made the biggest mistake of your lives," **came a loud, echoing voice from all around. Suddenly, several spotlights shone on the crowd of trenchcoats. **"Never attack performers on their own stage."**

The only light source, the spotlights, seemed to be aimed specifically to blind as many of the trenchcoats as possible. The trenchcoats found themselves surrounded by even more shadowed figures, all armed to the teeth, who all launched forward and attacked the crowd, led by Jude's silhouette.

Half of the trenchcoats were knocked down almost immediately from the deluge of swords, bullets, and blunt instruments. The other half either tried to fight back or scatter in any direction possible.

Three of the trenchcoats gave in to their flight instincts and successfully slipped away from the chaos to another side room, seemingly alone. "Kabuki Ninja Technique:" The trenchcoats searched around for the voice, but to no avail. "From up above!" One of the trenchcoats vanished as an invisible force pulled him up into shadows of the rafters. The remaining two trenchcoats in panic looked upward to try and find their attacker. "From down beneath!" A figure in a black, skintight gi and mask burst from a trapdoor to trip the two trenchcoats with his arms and then pinned the trenchcoats' limbs to the floor with twin sais. He disappeared back below the trapdoor before the trenchcoats even knew what hit them. "Beware the kabuki play's shadows."

Three more of the trenchcoats made it from the main brawl, only to find themselves lost in a backstage labyrinth of dark wooden cutouts. "The hell is this?" After getting themselves lost literally behind the scenes, the trenchcoats tried to make some sense of what was going on, "We're gettin' our asses handed to us by a bunch of carnies!"

"Arf Arf Arf!" Suddenly, a small, red and white furred dog blocked the passageway, yapping at the trenchcoats.

"Damn little mutt." One of the trenchcoats stepped forward and pointed his pistol at the dog. "I'll take my frustrations out on you!" A sharp crack interrupted him, as the pistol disappeared and a sharp pain lashed at his hand. Now, there were two figures blocking the passage: the barking dog and a young red-haired woman in an animal trainer's outfit holding a whip in one hand and the trenchcoat's pistol in the other.

"Don't you dare hurt my cute little Maggie. Ready, Maggie?" The dog barked eagerly in response as her trainer merely pointed in direction. "Lion Pounce!" At the command, Maggie leaped forward. In the air, Maggie quickly grew in size and her limbs became more feline in structure, until she wasn't a dog, but a full-grown lioness that pounced on the first trenchcoat, raking into its flesh with sharp claws and teeth. "Snake Bite!" The lion pounced to the next trenchcoat, this time shrinking as her limbs shriveled and folded into her body as fur changed to scales as a snake coiled around and bit the second trenchcoat in the leg. "Head butt!" Maggie coiled around the second trenchcoat and launched like a spring at the third, this time shifting into a billy goat and ramming into the third trenchcoat's gut head first. "And now for the Big Finale!" The billy goat grew into an impossibly large scaled figure with leathery wings, as a dragon now leered down at the three terrified trenchcoats below.

"Have mercy, please!"

"That's what you get when you mess with Maggie, the only dog with the devil fruit power to turn into a Chimera, and Durova, the world's only Chimera-dog trainer!"

"Carnies with devil fruit powers? What the hell did we get ourselves into?"

"Finish 'em off Maggie!" The dragon roared loudly as the three trenchcoats fainted in fear.

Two more trenchcoats crawled their way away from the brawl and found a door. Quickly hurrying inside, they were met with the director herself, still clad in her elegant black and red rose dress, already swinging down the large megaphone on the first trenchcoat's head, slamming his head down and embedding it in the floor.

"Tch, now look what you did to my good, clean floor. Dirty mongrels. This..." Pulling the megaphone up to her lips, she shouted at the top of her lungs, **"IS A CLOSED SET!" **The force of pure sound shot both trenchcoats flying out of the office.

"Time for the finale:_** Tempest Dance**_!" Jude twirled gracefully, spinning his rapier and slicing down four more of the trenchcoats, leaving only their leader left.

"Damnit... This has gotta be a nightmare," The lead trenchcoat slowly backed towards the exit, both hands shakily wielding pistols.

"A midsummer's nightmare to be sure," Jude responded with a smile and his rapier, "Ahh... foolhardy pirate attacks are much more satisfying than fight scene rehearsals."

"This... this isn't over! You may have gotten the drop on us, but at least we got one of his sons."

"Sons?" Jude advanced forward, "Praytell, what ever do you speak of?" The trenchcoat wasn't about to let himself be captured or worse, and bolted off the ship, only to run smack into a brick wall of a chest.

"I think he's talking about us, Jude." Hammie, blocking the exit, stood nearly a whole foot above the rat-faced little man, who yelped in surprise and dashed off, "Careful! There's a-" Suddenly, the floor beneath the fleeing trenchcoat fell away and his screams echoed as he plummeted with a splash directly in the ocean, "trap... door. Dammit, I needed to tell him which hospital his friend was at."

The performers stood there dumbfounded at Hammie. "You're saying you took one of these guys to a doctor?"

"Well, he couldn't very well take himself, could he? Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to the Director." Hammie excused himself as he passed by the rest of the performers and went directly to Rosalina's quarters.

"Something's wrong," noted one of the performers, "He didn't even comment on the set damage."

* * *

Rosalina grimaced at the splintered gap in the wall where there once was a door to her office. Sighing, she set about cleaning up the rest of the place when a knock came on one of the wallboards. She turned to see Hammie standing outside the former door to the office. Rosalina breathed a sigh of relief, until Hammie spoke.

"Mom, we need to talk."

Rosalina flinched. She hadn't heard Hammie speak with such a serious tone since the day he found out that she wasn't his real mother. "What's the matter, dear? It's not like this is the first time some misfits tried to give us trouble." She tried to mask her unease, but her voice wavered.

"Yeah, but these guys weren't after money, they were after me. Jude too."

"So? It's not like they had any talent."

"Mom, they were after me because of Dad."

Rosalina already knew where this was going, and although she so desperately wanted to dissuade Hammie, she couldn't find the words. "Hammie..."

"But they aren't the first, are they?" This time Hammie's was the voice that wavered with guilt, "How many of the pirates who tried to kill us in the past were after me for the same reason? How many more will keep coming?"

Rosalina placed a hand on Hammie's shoulder to console him, "Hammie, it's not your fault. You can't hold yourself responsible."

"No?" Hammie's voice rose in rage as his fist slammed down on the desk, destroying where it struck as Rosalina's flinched back. "What happens when someone finally does get hurt? It's not just you and Jude, this entire troupe is my family! Eventually, it'll be more than the set which gets shot!" Hammie took several deep breaths and composed himself before continuing much more calmly, "I think you need to tell me everything about Dad, and I do mean everything."

Rosalina paused and several minutes passed with neither speaking. Finally, Rosalina slowly and somberly sat down at her desk and began writing on a sheet of paper. "Your father... He never talked about his life outside of our relationship much. Only that he's a merchant who traveled to and from the Grand Line." She lay her pen down and handed the paper to Hammie, which contained a beautiful script of calligraphy. "The last I heard from him was the day you came into my life. I don't even know what happened, if he's still alive, or anything but he did give me the name of this place."

Hammie glanced over the slip of paper. "Midsummer Island?"

"An island somewhere in the Grand Line, though for the life of me, I don't know where. He told me if there I absolutely needed to find him to look for him there. I know you have a lot of questions about him, and I know I can't answer them." Hammie's head glanced up to see Rosalina's eyes start to well up with tears, "I also knew this day was coming for awhile, but for some reason, I still just can't..." Her face buried itself in her arms on the table, and suddenly the sleeves of her handmade dress were soaked in tears. She could barely get out any words without being drowned out by her own sobbing. "I'm slipping. There was once a time when I would only cry on cue." Instantly Hammie was by her side, hugging her and attempting to console her. She soon regained her composure, at least enough to form coherent sentences anyway. Rosalina lifted her heavy head up, mascara streaming down her face, mixing with her tears. "It's okay. All boys leave home some day, no matter how much we as mothers dread it."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't want to make you cry."

Rosalina stood up to hug her son back. "Shush you. The silver lining in all this is I won't worry about you as much because I know that you'll succeed. Everything you've ever done has been a success. You're the strongest, kindest, most intelligent boy I've ever known. The only thing I worry about is someone exploiting you. The world is a dangerous place for one who isn't wary of its ways to walk in it."

"That's why I'll be going with him." Standing in the doorway, holding a glass of wine in one hand and his ego in the other, was Jude, smiling and generally ruining the mood.

"Jude!"

Sauntering in, Jude took a seat by the door and sipped his wine, "Oh, don't look so surprised. Or did you forget that I was one of their targets too?"

"Jude, you don't have to..." Hammie meekly started.

"Save it," Jude quickly interrupted, "I know better than to let you go out on your own, lest you promote yourself from the doormat of the crew to the doormat of the world. Besides, the plot has become quite stagnant around here." Jude gave his mother and brother his cool, confident stare and smile, but when he looked up, he saw both lunging for him in mid-air. "Wait-!" Hammie and Rosalina both cut him off as they hugged him with the strength and ferocity of a bear. Two sets of arms wrapped around his chest and squeezed as Jude became distinctly aware of what it must feel like to be crushed to death. "Ribs... crushed... suit... ruffled..."

"You're the best brother ever!" Hammie praised loudly.

"Both of my sons finally leaving home and seeing the world, I've never been so sad and so proud in my life!" As Rosalina sobbed tears of joy, she simultaneously whispered into Jude's ear. "You will look after your brother, and you will not take advantage of your brother, and if I anything happens to Hammie, so be it I will drag you back to the ship myself; is that understood?"

"Yes, Mother," Jude managed to squeak out between hugs.

* * *

_Two weeks later..._

"That weekend the play was canceled, and all the tickets were refunded. Instead, the entire troupe spent three full days and nights throwing a going-away party without rest. Their regular fans were also invited, and the great Jude Carson was never without beautiful company. Hammie on the other hand, spent the weekend confessing his love and losing his virginity to..."

"THAT NEVER HAPPENED!" Hammie, whose face was now several shades redder than before, shouted at Jude.

"Please, Hammie, do not interrupt while I'm telling the story," Jude replied as if there was nothing damaging or abnormal with his words.

"But you can't just make up details like that!"

"It's called creative direction, and every story needs at least a little. Everyone likes a nice steamy romance scene. Besides, you'll like who you end up with."

"I DON'T CARE!" The two quickly devolved from simply Hammie interrupting Jude's 'creative direction' to full-out fighting. Meanwhile, Brody and Wendy sat on deck watching the spectacle as they ate some of the gourmet-level cuisine Takashi had scraped together from leftovers.

"They're definitely more entertaining than I thought," Brody chuckled.

"I know! It's like they're actually arguing!" Wendy beamed, wide-eyes glued to the spectacle.

"I don't think they're actually acting."

"Ssh! This is the best part." Wendy munched her food excitedly and focused her stare on the two quarreling brothers. Brody shrugged his shoulders and remained quiet for the rest of the 'performance'.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Well, that took a lot longer than expected. Hopefully the laws of momentum apply to writing too and I can get another chapter in less than a month. :P Thanks for the reviews so far, they really do give me a lot more motivation to get this story going, so keep 'em coming!

Baka~chan: The goal for each chapter is at least 3,000 words. I probably won't be posting them more than one at a time, I just wanted to get a foundation going first. The majority of the characters will be OC, but canon characters may show up every now and then (given One Piece geography, I don't really see how one could NOT run into Laboon at the start of the Grand Line.)

Rexan: _ My bad. Hammie's name change was an edit I made after writing. Hamlet is his actual name, but he's just known as Hammie. The change was made due to... well... you'll see. :P

Nine88: No plans for Luffy to show up yet, and if he eventually does, it won't be for a LOOOONG time. They don't have an official crew name yet since they were literally just formed. They don't even have a Jolly Roger or a bounty yet. But that'll change soon.


	5. The Island of Jaggerjaw

When Hammie woke up, the sun hadn't even risen yet and his head was smashing itself from the inside. Last night, when Hammie was expecting at best meat stew and hardtack thrown together from what was left of the ship's stores, Takashi had instead prepared a braised pork loin atop a seasoned vegetable and fruit salad with a tart red sauce Hammie couldn't identify, but found himself scooping up everything left on the plate. Takashi declined to actually name the dish or make any comment on it, but it spoke for itself. He also served some sort of special grog that Hammie almost made the mistake of refusing. Twelve very potent drinks later, instead of staying up and repairing the ship and keeping watch for whatever else in the ocean might try to kill them, Hammie lie passed out all night on the middle of the deck.

The light of dawn was approaching, so at least the deck was visible. Hammie quietly arose and softly stepped around the snoring figures of Michael and the doctor. Takashi sat upright sword in hand, making it hard to tell whether he was asleep or faking it. Looking around, Hammie found only one other person awake. Wendy was standing at the ship's rails, gazing out at the ocean.

Hearing him approach, Wendy turned around smiling cheerfully and whispered as loudly as possible, "Good morning, Captain!"

"Just call me Hammie, please. The word captain still makes me a bit nauseous." Although there was definitely more than just the title making him nauseous at the moment.

Wendy gave a little disappointed pout in response. "Aww, why's that? I thought it'd be awesome to have your own ship and crew and everything."

"Well, I don't really feel like a captain," The crazy events of the past 24 hours came rushing back to Hammie all at once and his overwhelmed panic continued his words for him, "I mean, I've already stolen one ship, sunken it, stolen a Navy ship that's now on the verge of sinking all the while trying to herd a bunch of sociopathic, pyromaniac housecats that make up what are supposed to be a crew, and it hasn't even been a full day since I was 'made' captain."

Wendy scratched her head for a bit, trying to think of a response, before clapping her hands together, smiling cheerfully. "Well, look on the bright side! If everyone else decided to make you captain, they must have really had a lot of faith in you."

"I think it's more that no one else wanted to be captain. And why would they? It seems like all I've been doing is trying unsuccessfully to clean up everyone's mess."

Undaunted, Wendy kept her upbeat attitude and pep talk, "Cheer up, you're just starting out. I'm sure you'll be a great captain once you've had a bit of practice."

"And what would you know of captaining unruly pirates?"

"Nothing at all!" Wendy only smiled wider and gave a thumbs up, "But I know that if you work hard enough you'll be a great captain someday. That's how it works with everything in life!"

Hammie sighed, shaking his head. "Thanks, but even a good captain has to have at least some respect of his crew. Nah, realistically speaking, I'll be lucky to survive the weekend."

"Don't say that!" Wendy faced Hammie, cheeks puffed red in a pout, "You can't give up so soon when you've just started!"

"Oh? Well, what would you do in my situation?"

"I don't know... Be more aggressive? Make sure everyone on the crew knows who's the boss?"

Hammie took a deep breath as both stopped talking for a moment, the only sound made a low, impatient growl from Wendy. "I apologize, I've been dumping all my problems on you. Let's just talk about something else, okay?"

"Hmph."

Hammie attempted to break the silent tension, "So... where's Brody?"

"Brody went for a swim so he can figure out where we are." Seemingly, any offense Hammie might have committed was dropped, but only so new questions could be raised.

"How does that work?"

"Well, I don't know the full details, just that he reads sea currents or something."

"It's a little more complicated than that." At that moment, Brody had popped out of the water and climbed back aboard the ship. "Sea currents are shaped by local underwater geography. Islands, trenches, coral reefs, etc. If you spend as much time underwater as we fishmen, you can learn to read sea currents like how some humans can predict the weather by watching the sky." Brody stated all of this as if he'd been in the whole conversation and Hammie realized he could have been down in the water listening to the entire conversation and Hammie would never have realized it. "I've got good news, Hammie. You can weigh anchor soon. We're here."

Hammie looked around, but could see nothing but water. "Where's here? I don't see an island anywhere."

"Just wait a second, the sun will rise soon." Brody folded his arms and waited. Sure enough, the sun rose up over a tiny land mass in the distance, illuminating the sky, the waters, and the deck in a dazzling display of blue, orange, and gold colors the likes of which were normally reserved for oil paintings. "There it is, Jaggerjaw Island." Despite the sight of land, both Wendy and Brody wore the same nervous frown when the light reached them.

"Home sweet home, huh?" Wendy softly, nervously spoke to Brody.

"Don't remind me," Brody grunted.

* * *

By the time the ship dropped anchor the sun had fully risen to illuminate the features of the island. The group disembarked on the western shore of the island, a vast beach that stretched as far as the eye could see over crystal blue waters. The only structure in sight was a small abandoned shack and a pile of lumber, along with some stumps lined the border of a lush forest that led further inland.

No one on board wasted any time getting off the quickly decaying navy ship to stretch their legs on dry land. Michael especially was restless and loud as usual. "Well, that's the first time in a while I haven' had to swim to dry land from a shipwreck. 'ey, fishstick, er.. fishman, who do ye have to shoot to get a drink around 'ere?"

Brody grimaced, but after a sharp glance and a forced smile from Wendy, he ignored the jibe and remained calm. "There's a town, Amity Village, on the other side of the island. It's only about a half hour's walk through the forest. There's a path not far south from here. Can't miss it."

"Walking?" Michael scoffed, "Hang that. Can't we just sail around the island an' dock there? Supposedly the dear cap'n's gotta do some fixin's on the ship anyway, or at least find a new one."

Wendy and Brody looked at each other uneasily as they seemed to struggle with the answer, "Well, there's not really a good place in town to dock your ship, plus there's plenty of wood, supplies, and space on this side."

"Not to mention that if people see a bunch of very obvious non-military personnel show up with a damaged navy ship, they are going to put two and two together."

"Yeah, that too," Wendy excitedly chimed.

"Clearly ye overestimate the mathematic capabilities of complete strangers. Well, if I must labor a leisurely stroll before I be allowed me libations, I best be off now."

The Doc started off after Michael, "Same here. If you need me, I'll be getting acquainted with the bottom of the nearest large, discolored bottle."

Wendy glanced over and gave Hammie a wink and a thumbs-up. _Well, no time like the present. _Hammie cleared his throat and spoke with as much authority as possible. "Okay, Michael, I'm going to need you to pick up some supplies while you're in town. Just some basic essentials so we can get the ship back in order."

Michael rolled his eyes as he walked away. "Yeah... I'll get right on that, chief." His voice dripped with sarcasm as he soon contradicted himself with Doc, not even bothering soften his voice, "When will they ever learn that I'm not the type to do things when told?"

"Eh, don't worry about it Michael," the Doc replied, "He's new at this. He'll get how things work eventually."

"They can't even wait until I'm out of earshot?" Hammie squatted down to draw circles in the sand and take pity on himself. Not even the doctor would listen to him.

"Don't worry about it, brother," Jude patted Hammie on the back, "I'll take care of the shopping and keep an eye on those two as well." With that, Jude was off in the same direction.

"Well, guess I better get started on repairs," Hammie sulked back off to the boat, head bent over and arms dragging at his sides.

Wendy's eyes started welling up with tears at the pitiful sight. "Poor Captain Hammie..."

"Here, I'll help," Brody followed Hammie, and rather than using the only rowboat they had, possibly stranding others, the two swam the short distance back to the ship and climbed up the many gaping holes in the ship, though Hammie somehow managed to mope while swimming and climbing as well.

* * *

Brody's legs braced and his arms relaxed as he stared down the large stack of wood. He slowly raised one arm high into the air as he drew in a large breath. "HYAAH!" Focusing his weight, his hand chopped straight down, splitting the planks dead-center. "Yo, Hammie, how's that?"

Hammie finished nailing in the board to the side of the mast before turning to gaze at the once neatly arranged lumber, now a scattered pile of debris. "Um, that's impressive and all, but could you just use the saw please?"

"Sorry, just trying to make things a little more efficient, you know?"

"Not that I don't appreciate it, but when you chop the wood like that, I don't get the exact dimensions I need and the edge is all splintered. It doesn't exactly make for a sturdy repair."

"Fair enough," Brody picked up the saw and went to work salvaging the crushed pile, "So first time with your own ship, eh?"

"Yup. Hand me a two by four please."

Brody tossed the small wooden plank over to Hammie, "It's nice isn't it?"

"What?"

"Getting to sail where you want to," Brody started working the saw on various planks of wood, his inhuman strength letting him plow through board after board, "Getting to chart your own course instead of just following a map. Nothing like personal freedom to go where you want."

Hammie wiped the sweat off his brow, but otherwise didn't pause in his work, "I don't know about the course-charting thing. I've fixed up boats before but I don't know the first thing about reading maps or anything like that."

"You're going to need to fix that in the near future unless you want to sail straight into a sea king's mouth."

"I don't suppose you could show me a thing or two."

"Me? Truth be told I don't really look at most maps the way air-breathers do."

"How do you mean?"

"I'm more accustomed to reading maps about what lies below the sea, not what's dry. Still, I guess I could give you a crash-course. Let's make sure the ship won't sink overnight first." Both set back to work for a few minutes in silence until Brody once again broke it

"Hey, Hammie, can I ask you a personal question?"

Hammie paused, unsure of what to think, "Uh... sure?"

Brody stopped sawing the wood and went over to Hammie, pulling a small box out of one of his jacket pockets and opened it. Inside, the sun reflected a glint of light off a perfectly round, smooth pearl embedded in a ring of gold and coral red. "Well, whaddya think?"

Once again, Hammie was unsure of what to think, "Ah... well, Brody, I'm flattered but I don't think we've known each other long enough for that kind of a relationship."

Brody looked down at Hammie with wide eyes reminiscent of a puppy, "You think Wendy'll like it all right?"

"Oh, it's for Wendy," Hammie breathed a sigh of relief, but once again for him only more questions were raised. "Wait, it's for Wendy? So then you and her...?"

"I was gonna wait till we got to the next island to give this to her. Try to keep her mind off things, ya know?"

There were too many questions Hammie had about such an idea, most of them about how such a relationship between a fishman and human could even physically happen. The biology behind it just wasn't sound as far as he knew. "But how does that even work...?"

"But things got a little hectic and... well... I guess this thing's kind of burning a hole in my pocket. Human girls like this sort of thing, right?"

Hammie stared deadpan, "I am completely the wrong person to be asking this."

"Oh..." Brody looked to the ground, dejected.

Feeling guilty, Hammie tried to be supportive, "I mean... I'm sure she'll love it! With a rock like that, what girl, human or otherwise, could say no?"

"Thanks, man. That means more to me than you could imagine." Brody, cheered up now, smiled at Hammie, revealing a large mouth as large as the rest of his head combined with a row of teeth seemingly unnaturally white and just enough out of alignment to be unnerving. Each tooth was about twice the size of anything in a human mouth. Though there wasn't anything directly threatening about it, Hammie couldn't help but flinch at a mouth that could probably take his head in one bite.

"GAAAH!" Hammie recoiled back to the mast, "You're welcome. Just... do me a favor and smile with your mouth closed, will you? No offense or anything." Brody quickly closed his mouth, embarrassed, and the two continued with the ship's repair.

* * *

Deep in the forests of Jaggerjaw Island, Takashi had left the rabble and noise that came with the ship or anywhere with a Michael in it. As soon as he had seen the village in the distance he immediately turned left and walked further into the wilderness until no sign of civilization was left, only the sounds of nature to disturb him. After spending a few hours picking out the perfect spot, he unsheathed two swords caked in dry blood from the collection on his back and took his stance.

"This place will be adequate for meditation."

* * *

Amity was a small, quiet village with no building larger than two stories. The sun rose in the sky as the residents were just exiting their homes to begin the day's routine. The village had seen better days though. Over half the buildings were abandoned and boarded up, and at first Michael hoped for some other pirates "livening" the village up. His hopes were dashed when it became apparent that the houses were boarded up for several years and that there was no damage otherwise on the sleepy town. Not only were there no ships docked at the port, there was no dock to make port at.

Turning a corner, Michael stopped at in his tracks, something catching his eye and a sly grin forming on his face and an idea forming in his head.

"You coming, Michael?"

"Be there in a jiff, Doc. I need to check on somethin'." And with that, Michael went off on his own towards some goal that neither Jude nor Doc could see at the moment.

Doc knew the look all too well and knew better than to get involved at this point. "Whatever. I'm not saving you any grog," Turning to Jude, "What about you, lightweight?"

"Well, first thing's first. I haven't bathed for a full two days now. Perhaps later," Doc shrugged and went off to look for a bar elsewhere. Jude, meanwhile, had his own agenda to look to and casually strode through town scouting the area. "There has to be an inn somewhere. Ah, here we are." Finally, Jude came across a small two-story building with an old, faded sign reading 'Marigold's Inn'. Jude took a good view of the place as well as the surrounding area, and then stepped inside with as regal an entrance as he could muster. Inside, a young, skinny blond woman sat at the front desk, heads buried in her arms quietly asleep. Slightly annoyed at his proud entrance being wasted, Jude nevertheless attempted politeness. "Young miss Marigold is it? Excuse me, Marigold?" It took several dings of the small desk bell and an 'accidental' slamming on the table before the young woman was roused.

"... Who are you?" The woman was still so groggy, Jude wondered if she remembered that she was supposedly on duty.

"A paying customer." As far as Jude knew, this was still a foreign concept to the young woman. Still, hopefully this would rouse some professionalism out of this supposed innkeeper.

"... Do I know you?" Apparently not.

"You haven't been playing the part of an innkeeper for very long, have you?"

"... Where'd you come from?" This had crossed the line from poor customer service to just plain rudeness. Jude could forgive that the young lady may have simply been living under a rock all her life and didn't recognize her, all the better for him actually. He could have even forgiven the lack of service and courtesy if there were a finer establishment in town to choose from. But to him, being the only inn in town meant that it had to be the best inn in town and certain standards of service had to be met. Rudeness to potential customers was not one of them.

"Now look here, Miss Marigold."

"... Daisy."

"Excuse me?"

"... My name's Daisy, not Marigold."

"I assume Marigold is the proprietor of this establishment then?"

"... More or less."

"Then please let me speak to Miss Marigold whom I assume will actually provide something resembling customer service."

"... She's not available."

Despite the growing headache this was becoming, Jude was very good at not letting his anger and frustration show, at least not more than he wanted to. "What sort of inn is this anyway?"

"..." Daisy started to nod off back to sleep causing Jude to slam his fist down on the table.

"Now see here! I am a paying customer and if you want anything resembling business from me than you will prepare a private bath for one with heated water and an ample supply of soap. And not the common soap either, I expect you must have something resembling refinement somewhere around here. I also need my clothes washed by hand, and delicately for these are sensitive fabrics. Is that clear?"

"... Sure." Lazily getting up from her stool and dusting herself off, Daisy slowly went to meet the demands, though Jude was "supervising" her and making sure she didn't fall asleep every step of the way. It took longer than Jude thought it should of course, but eventually a room was cleaned and emptied, a bath was drawn, and Jude settled into the warm water. It could have used a few more scented oils sure, but this was a start.

"... Is there anything else?"

"Is there anything else what?"

"... Is there anything else, sir?"

Jude smiled as he reclined in the bathtub, now only wearing his half-mask as his clothes were carefully laid out to be washed, a task of which Jude would insist on supervising later. "I require conversation. Don't stare. It isn't professional. Just sit in that chair there and face the wall. And do not fall asleep. It isn't professional. Now," as he began to cleanse himself, "Tell me about Amity."

* * *

Meanwhile, Doc stumbled into a nearby saloon through a set of classic swinging doors, clutching his head in tired pain. Crawling on top of one of the bar stools, Doc managed to balance himself enough to slump onto the bar counter. "Barkeep, give me one of the house specials. And by house special, I mean anything you got in the house." The bartender turned around, and Doc had to check his eyes. The kid couldn't have been older than 16. "Aren't you a little young to be tending bar?"

"I'm the only one there is here," the teenage bartender sheepishly replied.

Doc shrugged his shoulders. As long as the kid could mix drinks, who was he to judge? "Fine. Just give me the strongest drink you have, and the whole bottle of it." The bartender hesitantly pulled out a large, dark bottle from behind the counter, but it was grabbed from his hands before he could open it, and Doc was already chugging stuff that normally had to be diluted several times over before it could even be served in shot glasses.

"Are you sure you should be drinking that much so quickly? That's some powerful stuff."

Doc stopped chugging to breathe and already half the bottle was gone. "Hey, if I don't drink every last drop it'll be too much of a temptation for you minors. I'm just doing my civic duty as a doctor."

The bartender's eyes widened, "You're a doctor?"

Doc smiled as he slowed down from chugging the bottle to just nursing it, "Don't let the stethoscope fool you." He patted his chest confusingly. "Oh wait, that's right I'm not wearing one." Doc laughed at loud at his own inside joke. This stuff worked fast.

"Please, just take anything you want! Leave me alone!" Suddenly, the bartender backed away hysterically before bolting out the back door. Doc raised an eyebrow and almost wondered enough to ask what the hell was the matter before he realized the more important matter.

"Huh... Wow, free booze!" Doc let his body slide lazily but quickly over the bar to its many stores to help himself.

* * *

Michael found himself standing in front of a large pile of debris near the center of town, the remains of what was probably some church or important government building. Now it seemed to be just an empty, plantless lot with lumber, stone, and brick strewn about haphazardly. Most of said materials were charred to a crisp and useless. Obviously fire had been the building's downfall, but Michael was sure he could find a few good bits and pieces among the debris. _I wasn't gonna bother, but if I'm the one to get Hammie that stuff, he might just make ME first mate instead of that pansy._ Laughing mischievously, he stepped over the small stone barrier separating the bleak, grassless lot from the rest of the town.

One step in, and Michael stopped. Something felt different. Michael swore he could hear breathing behind him, and not just from one source. Michael slowly turned around. _Where the bloody hell did they all come from?_ Where once was an empty street there was now a rather large crowd, all scared and looking straight at him. Most of the villagers were cowering behind one another, leaving one young man, the only one with facial hair, to lead the pack.

Michael could practically feel the combined fear from the crowd, and it was like a natural high. He had to stifle a large grin into a slight smirk as he leaned in to turn an ear to the slowly shrinking man. "What the bloody hell you lot lookin' at?"

The crowd immediately flinched back, except for their leader, who definitely wanted to be anywhere else at the moment, "I am the elder of Amity Village, Quint. I don't know who you are, out-of-towner, or how you arrived on Jaggerjaw Island, but you're not allowed there."

Michael glanced over the crowd, still huddling behind one another, actually slinking back even more when his gaze passed over them. "You an' what army, pintsize?"

"You don't understand-"

"Oh, I don't understand, now do I? What, because Mikey's from out-of-town he doesn't understand how things work around yer quant lil' town here?"

"No, I-"

"Ye think jus' because yer the boss of all the lil' sheep hidin' behind ye, ye can tell me what I can and can't do? Ye have any idea who ye're talkin' to?" Michael unhooked the clasp to his two giant pistols, and any attempts the crowd or its leader had of a response vanished. "Well? I'm waiting. Not so chatty now, are ye?" Michael edged closer to the crowd until his face was mere inches from the Quint's sweating, cowering face. "Say somethin' ye pansy!"

"Hey, Mike, guess what?" Across the street, Doc exited the bar carrying several armfuls of grog, "Free boo-Oh shit, not again." He made his way over to Michael and the crowd, making sure not to spill a drop of booze on the way, and stepped in between Michael and the 'elder,' "All right, who did you piss off this time, Michael?"

"What? Me and Quin here?" Michael smiled and wrapped an arm around his new 'buddy.' "We were jus' havin' a good ol' chat, and he was jus' about to leave, weren't ye, Quin?" The poor man couldn't respond, whether it was out of fear or Michael's body odor had killed him Doc couldn't decide, but Doc had other things on his mind.

"Michael, what are you doing here?"

"Jus' thought I'd grab a few supplies so we can get off this rock faster is all. They certainly aren't usin' it."

"Michael, do you have any idea what you're standing in?"

"Eh?" Michael took a more careful look at his surroundings, but saw nothing.

"More importantly, who you're standing in?" Doc, had to do some pointing, but eventually, out of the otherwise vague shapes in the ashes, Michael could make out the human-shaped outlines in the rubble, the ashes of whomever died here. As soon as Michael realized exactly what he was wading through, he leapt out as if the rubble was still on fire, cursing unintelligibly but loudly. This was more than enough to send Quint and the rest of the crowd scurrying like cockroaches back to the safety of their buildings or the shadows of the alleys around them. Doc forced some of grog into Michael's hand and helped him up. "Come on, Mike. There's more where that came from."

* * *

The bartender still hadn't returned yet, much to Doc's delight. He hopped over the bar and took the responsibility of tending drinks to himself and to Michael, still shaken and examining his boots for human remains. Doc had always known Michael to be a superstitious man, and this kind of experience would leave Michael thinking he was haunted for weeks. The best treatment for this kind of behavior in Doc's experience was a good stiff drink, and who better to administer the medication than Michael's physician. "Here, drink this. See? The town's not all bad. Free booze."

Michael chugged the pint down and slammed the empty mug on the bar, where Doc took to pouring another drink right away, "Right, not all bad. Creepy townies, creepy buildings, creepy silence, bloody cemetery in a burned down building. Cremation's not a bad way to be disposed of all, in fact I'd prefer it meself once I shuffle off me mortal coil, but yer s'posed to dispose of the ashes not leaving them out for the wind to carry them wherever," Michael slammed down another drink that Doc had just finished pouring him, "Betcha that's why half the buildins here are boarded up. Angry spirits 'cause the people here didn't do a good job buryin' the first lot."

"Save the ghost stories, Mike, it's ruining the booze," Doc downed a drink himself. Michael wasn't sure what was in this, but noted a small plume of smoke escaping Doc's drink afterwards, "Besides, it's a nice change of pace from the usual angry mob chasing us out of town."

"Bah! A few torches and pitchforks might liven up the place," Michael chugged his third drink, "Hoo boy, Doc. The drink's a lil' too strong fer this early in the morning. One sip an' I can already hear singin'."

"That's not the drink. My alcohol-induced hallucinations are ALWAYS in tune." The music grew louder until it was apparent that someone was singing, loudly and off-key, and the noise was growing closer, until finally the bar doors burst open, three individuals bursting in, the front one screaming at the top of his lungs.

"_Well, I can't tune a piano,_

_but I can tuna fish!"_

Author's Notes:

Been a while, hasn't it?

There's something I need to decide with regard to future chapters, so I thought I should ask the readers.

When it comes to battles, I have two options. In One Piece, as in a lot of shounen work, the characters have to call out their attacks, "Gomu Gomu no Pistol" and the like, which makes sense since otherwise, how could we know which attacks the characters are using. But it is really cheesy and campy. So what's your opinion, attack names or no attack names?

Rexan: Unfortunately, Rosalina's crew was only for that one chapter, though arcs in the future may feature them if I find a good enough excuse.


	6. The Prisoner

"_Well I can't tune a piano,_

_but I can tuna fish!"_

The saloon door flew off its hinges as the bar was soon crowded by three more than before men, if men was the proper term for them.

The first, the one who kicked the doors off their hinges, the one who sang with the pitch of a rake on a chalkboard, was tall, skinny, and blue. His slick black hair was plastered down and his thick, purple, lower lip shook with every note he garbled out. He was wearing a loose, open-buttoned tropical shirt, low-hanging shorts, and black sandals, "And now for the encore! One more time! _Because I can't tune~a pia~n~o..._"

"Give it a rest, mon," The second of the fishmen was a bright blue guy with dreadlocks, whose skin was almost translucent. If one looked carefully they could see through his torso and make out whatever was behind him, "You been singin da whole way here. It's gettin old."

"Quit your yapping, Mambo," the first fishman flipped his collar up and ran a comb through his plastered hair, "The public will go crazy if they don't get their daily servings of Charlie Sunkissed, the best singer on Jaggerjaw Island."

"You mean da only singer on Jaggerjaw Island," Mambo rolled his eyes.

"All the more reason my adoring public shouldn't be deprived of the musical sensation of the nation."

"Uweeheehee..." The third fishman was more crustacean than fish. What looked like heavy red armor was actually his natural shell, and instead of hands he had two vicious pincers. His eyes darted about the room on two short stalks on his head, and just below a thin, curled mustache (which at first sight may or may not have been painted on) was a wide grin that stretched even farther than the mustache, "I actually find ze grating noise amusing as long as zere are many humans in agony as well. Zat part at least iz pleasurable."

Charlie the musician frowned, "Dammit, Torteau you sure know how to suck the fun out of anything, don't you?"

"Oui, it makez for a nice soup," Torteau smiled, clicking his claws together in excitement.

"Bloody hell, there's more of these fishsticks here?" As Michael chugged his grog down, three pairs of inhuman eyes glared in his direction. Charlie, in particular, morphed his grin into a grimace

"Who the hell are you?" Charlie sauntered up, eying Michael like a piece of rotten meat, "And where's the usual guy?"

Mambo grabbed the stool on the other side, letting himself hunch over the bar as he grabbed a free bottle, "Oh, just sit down and drink already. Who cares about dem?"

Doc just smiled from behind the bar, "No need to start a ruckus, gentlemen. Just so happens the current proprietor has left his patrons with a wonderful open bar. So what do you say to a hell of a happy hour? Drinks on the house for everyone!"

Charlie grinned, "Free drinks, huh? That'd be great except for one thing," A blue flash streaked across the bar, Charlie's webbed hand tightly wrapped around Doc's neck before he even finished pouring his drink, "This is our bar."

"Sunova..!" Michael quickly stood up, but quickly collapsed to the floor, "Me leg…" A searing pain shot up Michael's leg, the last thing it felt before going completely numb. Mambo, sitting on the other side of Michael, seemed to pay him no mind.

"Our island. Our town. Our bar."

"Holy hell, is this how you treat all your tourists?" Doc was still able to breathe for the moment, but he knew that if the fishman wanted to, he could probably crush his neck like a paper cup.

"We don't get tourists. So let's start out with how the hell **you** got here."

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down. We're all friends here, we came here with one of your folk."

"My folk?" Charlie's grin vanished again as he slammed the thin body against the bar wall, Doc flailing about helplessly, "What would a human know of 'my folk'?"

"How about a big, blue guy named Brody?" Doc spoke quickly, his vision blurring as he could feel the concussion coming on.

"Brody? Brody Martin?" Charlie raised an eyebrow, not out of confusion, but of intrigue. The other two fishmen stared at Doc as well, the crab cackling wildly.

"You hear that boys? Brody's back. The boss'll want to hear about this," Charlie smiled and dropped Doc on the floor, "Looks like you're off the hook for now, groundwalker. Like I said, we don't get tourists, but we've got room for a few immigrants," Charlie waved as the other two followed him out of the bar, "Enjoy the rest of your life in Jaggerjaw, however short it may be." Doc rushed over to Michael who was still grasping his immobile leg.

* * *

At Marigold's Inn,

Jude bolted out of the front entrance, still soaking wet, and ran as fast as he could towards the ship. _If everything she said is true, I have to get back to the ship before something terrible happens._ The inn's current proprietor merely stood in the doorway, blushing, holding Jude's freshly cleaned pants.

* * *

"All right, what do you think?" Hammie and Brody, both exhausted from the day's work, stood and admired their handiwork, a patchwork mast with different varieties of wooden planks keeping it together.

"Well, it's not going to be winning any beauty contests, but considering most would've junked this ship in what condition it was in, I'd say you did a pretty good job. It'll float at least. Hell, might even get you to the next island, unless…"

"Unless what?"

"You said you were going to the Grand Line. Getting there is an all in itself. You're going to need this ship to do more than just float."

Hammie collapsed onto a nearby barrel, "But I've already used up all the spare material we have on the ship."

"No worries. I'll see if there's anything left on shore. Besides, Wendy should be done with dinner soon," Brody grinned, this time without showing teeth, and walked towards the edge of the ship.

"How is her cooking anyway?"

"Well, she doesn't burn the fish. Or herself. Anymore. Usually."

"Ouch." Hammie was starting to miss Takashi.

"Hey, practice makes adequate." Brody jumped into the water and leisurely swam to shore while Hammie got back to work patching up what holes he could and nailing loose boards back together.

Brody hadn't swam in the ocean like this in a while. He'd forgotten how relaxing it was, how he could be alone with his thoughts. Up in the shallow waters like this was nice, but deeper in the ocean it was an almost endless blue. It was one of those pleasures he knew he could enjoy, but Wendy and other humans could never experience. Not once in his entire life did he take that for granted, but every day he wished there was a way to take Wendy down here.

Now letting himself drift to shore, his thoughts turned to his new friend. _Hammie's a good kid, but way too green._ _His ship's one stiff breeze away from a pile of driftwood no matter how he patches it up, his crew's psychotic and don't follow his lead, and I just don't think he understands how brutal and unforgiving the Grand Line is. Most pirates, even those who take all the precautions possible, get shipwrecked before they can even officially enter the Grand Line. And without a real navigator… I just don't see any possibility of them surviving._ Brody was approaching the shore now, so he let himself walk the rest of the way. _The way Hammie's working at that ship, though, I don't see him quitting on this. _The answer wasn't coming to him, so Brody decided to dwell on it and maybe see what Wendy thought.

As he walked up the beach, he didn't see Wendy, but he could already smell the fish burning. It seemed like it was Blackfish for dinner again, "Hey, Wendy, you aren't too lonely over here by yourself, are you?"

"Not at all," came the deep, gruff, stoic voice that was definitely not Wendy's, "She has us to keep her company at present." Stepping from behind the half-disassembled wooden shack was a muscular fishman, almost approaching Brody in size, with scars all over his body. On his nose was a 3-foot long sheathe that stuck straight out in front of him.

Brody's blood froze as he recognized the swordfish fishman, "Xiphias…"

"I'm glad to see you remember your old first mate, Brody. I wonder, do you remember the rest the crew?" As a half-dozen other fishman stepped out from the woods, Xiphias never smiled or showed any emotion, other than the slight tinge of anger, and even that was a rarity for him. The crab fishman Torteau appeared cackling and holding a tear-streaked Wendy, his large red claws wrapped around her head and neck, ready to tear it off in one clean swipe. "You were shown mercy for your crimes, Brody. Exile instead of torture and death, and this is how you give thanks?"

Every instinct in Brody's body told him to run. Some said to run away, while other said to run forward and deal with the attackers, but either way he couldn't save Wendy. Instead, he clenched his fists so hard they trembled and stood still, muscles tensed to leap into action at a moment's notice.

"Well, nothing to say for yourself?" Xiphias asked, but Brody's silence spoke for him. His mind was racing, running every scenario in his head trying to find some way that Wendy at least could walk away from this. "You were shown mercy, allowed to leave with your human and both of your lives intact, on the condition that you never show yourself in these waters again. For your crimes against our kind, exile instead of torture and death. A very lenient sentence indeed, given your transgressions." Xiphias's sheathed nose pointed out towards the marine ship floating in the ocean. "Yet here you are, not a week later, with a brand new ship and a _**human**_ crew. What, were you hoping to take back Jaggerjaw for yourself?"

"You've got it all wrong," There was no way to tell how much they knew, as obviously there were plenty of assumptions. Nevertheless, while Wendy and himself might have been currently screwed, Brody's mind raced for a way to cover for Hammie's bunch. _Hopefully, they can still get off the island without anyone else ever knowing they were here,_ "The raft was too flimsy, so we… I took the ship from some marines. It was hit hard by La Espada, and I just needed enough supplies to get to the next island. I didn't leave any survivors."

"Nice try, but we've already encountered two of your new crew, Brody. Drinking our alcohol and harassing our villagers."

_Too late. I should've known that idiot gunner would cause a huge ruckus. _"Them? They were prisoners the marines had. I hadn't decided whether or not I needed them to get the ship to the next island. They must've gotten out of the brig I left them in."

"Is that so?" Charlie Sunkissed sauntered forward, never one to miss an opportunity to showboat, "You always did have a good poker face. Well, if there's no one left aboard, how about I go make some flotsam and jetsam soup out of it?"

"No!" Brody's bluff had been called.

"Well, Xiphias?" Charlie started stretching his legs, limbering up.

"Do it," Xiphias coldly gave the order without hesitation. On cue, Charlie sprinted towards the water. Brody moved to try and intercept, but was quickly stopped by Xiphias's words and the reality of the situation, "Move, and she dies all the sooner." Brody could only stand and watch as Charlie dove into the water, rocketing toward the boat like a torpedo. The ship was too far out to see if Hammie was still on deck or even aware of the coming threat. Charlie shot through the water, soon vanishing from the other fishmens' sight as he hurtled further away from the shore. A few seconds of silence passed with anticipation before a column of water shot through the center of the boat, Charlie having nailed his target dead-on. The ship, battered already as it was, tore apart and slowly sunk to the ocean floor in halves. Brody kept his eyes peeled, watching for some sign of Hammie swimming away or catching a piece of driftwood, anything. Nothing. Brody fell to his knees, the weight of someone else's death on his shoulder too much to bear right now, and his and Wendy's fates weren't looking any better at the moment. It only took moments for Charlie to swim back to shore, strolling out of the water as if he had just gone on a routine swim.

"Why? Why destroy the ship when you want us to leave as soon as possible?" Tears started to stream down Brody's face.

"Wrong, Brody. Any comraderie that earned you leniency last time has vanished. Exile is clearly not enough for a punishment for you." Xiphias remained unsympathetic, but never broke eye contact with Brody.

"Then what is?" Brody's pupils turned to slits, and his teeth unconsciously bared themselves.

Xiphias's own eyes turned to slits as well, as an unspoken bloodlust filled the air, "That will be decided later. One thing for sure is that the girl's sentence is death."

"NO!" Brody leapt up, ready to lunge forward, but Xiphias was as stoic as before.

"The only reason we've delayed her execution thus far, is that part of your sentence should be to watch," Without turning his head or moving a muscle, Xiphias signaled his executioner, "Torteau..."

Torteau, grinning more widely than usual, leaned in close to Wendy, whispering into her ear, "I vill enjoy zees very much, mon petit cherie." Wendy screamed what would've been her dying screams.

In that instant, Brody wanted nothing more than to give in to his instinct and attack, and if Wendy's execution was successful, that very well may have been what happened. But Brody had one last desperate act left, "Wait!" Brody's bestial rage subsided, as he got down on his hands and knees and bowed, "It's me you want, not her. So take me instead."

The fishmen all sneered in contempt and disgust at Brody's behavior, some spitting on him and others trying to provoke him into violence. Xiphias remained unimpressed. "Your bargain is worthless. We already have both of you."

"There are two ways I can go with you, Xiphias. One of them involves a bloody fight on your hands," Brody raised his head to lock eyes with Xiphias, and the crowd fell silent.

"… Torteau, let her go."

For the first time all week, Torteau's grin vanished, "Vat?"

"You heard me. The human is less than garbage. But Brody's willing to come quietly," Xiphias calmly approached Brody, who stood up and bared his arms as Xiphias bound them with heavy iron manacles. "You know I can't and won't guarantee the human's survival after your sentence has been carried out, Brody," Xiphias spoke softly.

"I'll gladly give my life so Wendy can live one more day," There was no hesitation in Brody's voice, only pride.

"You're a disgrace to your race, Brody Martin," Xiphias spat in contempt before turning to the rest of the fishmen, "Let's go!" Torteau reluctantly released his grip on the girl and threw her to the ground, where she lay unable to do anything but cry and tremble. Xiphias and the fishmen led away Brody, who towered over the lot of them in comparison.

As he slowly marched away, Brody turned to Wendy. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you longer, Wendy. Forget about me. Just live as long as possible." Under his breath, he whispered the words that neither the fishmen nor Wendy could hear, but the words he most wanted to speak above all else. _I love you…_

Wendy could only sob face-down in the sand as she heard the footsteps grow quieter and quieter in the distance, until once again she was all alone. When she finally dared to look up, she first saw the footprints in the sand of the angry mob. Try as she might, she couldn't distinguish Brody's tracks from the rest, and even if she could by tomorrow the tides would leave the beach without a trace. She gazed out on the sea, and couldn't even spot any driftwood from the ship, as it had been sunk completely with Hammie still aboard. It wouldn't be long until they came for her too, and without Brody, there would be no sailing away this time.

Suddenly, something rustled from the forest. Were the fishmen back for her already? "Damnit, Michael, limp faster!"

"Shove a cork in it, old man. I still can't feel me leg after somthin' stabbed it." Michael was leaning on Doc as the two moved as fast as they could through the forest in their condition, Michael's leg was dragging along behind them. Michael was of course as loud and talkative as possible while Doc just rolled his eyes.

"You weren't stabbed. There's no knife wound and those asses in the bar never touched you."

"Bloody hell I wasn't! I think I know when I'm stabbed in the leg, damnit!" As soon as Doc spotted Wendy, he dropped Michael where he was and rushed over to the girl's side, leaving Michael to catch hold of a nearby tree. "Ey, where ye goin', Doc? Get back here! I call Malpractice!"

"Wendy, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?"

"B.. Brody, he…" The lump still hadn't left her throat, and she still couldn't stop crying even after what seemed like an eternity since Brody had left.

"What about Brody? Where is he? For that matter, where's Hammie?" Doc was frantically looking around for some sign of the others or maybe threats, but saw nothing.

Another rustle in the bushes caused the three of them to turn and see Jude running up, butt naked, and thankfully behind a conveniently placed bush. "Where's the ship?"

It was Michael who replied with the obvious. "Where's yer pants?"

"They took Brody," Wendy finally managed to choke out, "He sacrificed himself for me, but… they sunk the ship. With Hammie still on it."

"Damnit. I knew it," Doc gritted his teeth.

"No bloody way… I can't lose the bet this quickly."

"Say it isn't true!"

A deafening roar interrupted the lot as the water erupted on the shoreline like a tidal wave, a sea king launching itself out of the water. Or at least that's what it looked like for a split second, before the water subsided. Standing in the water was the drenched Hammie, a rope tied around his waist to a broken mast dragging behind him. As he was gasping for air, he didn't speak, but roared each word in between breaths.

"_**Who. Broke. My. Ship?"**_

_To be continued…_


	7. The Survivor's Anger

Hammie walked forward, each step a huge chore due to exhaustion and the fact he was tied at the waist to a giant, wooden mast, until he collapsed face-down in the sand. "A little help here?" was what Hammie meant to say as one of his arms flailed impotently, but the sand only allowed muffled noise.

Fortunately, this wasn't the first unintelligible patient face-down in the dirt for Doc and he was fluent in half-smothered mumble. He rushed to Hammie's side, leaving Michael and Wendy to stare in shock. Doc flipped Hammie onto his back, finding the half-drowned man a lot heavier than he looked. As soon as he was on his back, Hammie started gasping for air.

"No broken bones. No water in the lungs. Some bruising around the waist. Everything looks fine to me," Doc sat back perplexed.

"Of course he's fine!" Jude snapped, "There's no way something like that would even be an obstacle for Hammie."

"Hey, you were just as worried about him as the rest of us," Doc retorted.

Jude scoffed, "I wasn't worried about Hammie, you pinhead! All of my best clothes are still on the ship!" Jude ran into the water, still in his birthday suit, "Maybe there's still time to salvage some." He dove into the ocean and furiously swam towards the wreckage of the ship.

Meanwhile, Michael had managed to hop over to a nearer tree, "Well, not that we're not all very impressed and giddy bout yer continued existence, but could someone please explain to me what the bloody hell happened?"

"Don't know…" Hammie still gasped for air, but at least was able to talk between breaths, "One minute… fixing the ship… Next… Ship's sinking…"

"So ye swam to shore?"

"Walked," Hammie's breathing started to relax.

"Why the bloody hell would ye do that?"

Finally, Hammie could speak in full sentences, "When the ship went down, I was still working on the mast, so I was tied down to it. This is a very sturdy kind of rope, so much so that when it gets wet, it's virtually unbreakable. I can't very well swim with a giant wooden mast tied to my waist now can I?"

"So ye walked."

"Yes."

"Underwater."

"Yes."

"With a mast tied to ye."

"It broke off before the rope would, so yes."

Michael twitched. "Is there any way that could be more ridiculous?"

Hammie slowly sat up, "Well, if you want to get technical, I was walking to shore, so I was on an incline…"

"T'HAT'S A LOAD O BLOODY-Hey, me leg's better," And just like that, the issue was dropped as Michael tested out his apparently healed foot.

Hammie reached into his still sopping tool belt and pulled out a lighter. "Thank goodness for waterproof pouches." He set to work with a couple small rocks, lighting a small fire to gradually dry out enough of the rope that it could at least be cut.

"In that case…" Doc stood back up and walked over to Wendy who was calm for the moment, offering her a handkerchief from his coat pocket, "I think we deserve an explanation. What happened here?"

"It's a long story, and Brody thought you'd be safer if you didn't know, but I guess now there's no point," Wendy wiped her tears with the handkerchief and took a few deep breaths, "Jaggerjaw Island is close to the Grand Line, so for a long time, this would be the last stop for pirates on the way. We're a small, self-sufficient island but we're defenseless and isolated from any nearby island who could help us. For as long as anyone in the village could remember, we've had to hide away food and supplies just to survive all the pirate raids on the island.

"Then, five years ago, a bunch of fishmen came to our island: the Tiburones Gemelos Pirates. At first, we thought they would pillage our island like the rest of the pirates, or worse, since everyone knows how much fishmen hate humans. But the whole island was surprised to find out that they weren't here to attack us. They wanted to use this island as a base of operations, and in exchange for providing them with supplies, they'd protect us from pirates and corrupt marines and the like.

"That was the first time I met Brody. He was captain of the Tiburones Gemelos back then, even though he was younger than most of the other fishmen. I think it was because he's a great white shark fishman. There's like an unwritten rule that the shark fishmen lead or something. Everything was great for awhile, and for five years, we didn't receive any visitors. Any pirates or marines who'd try to attack us would get sunk by Brody and his gang. But then…" Unable to hold back anymore, Wendy buried her face in the handkerchief, bawling uncontrollably, her calm somber story turning growing hysterical, "It's all my fault. If I hadn't… If he hadn't had to stick up for me, maybe he wouldn't have been kicked out. Maybe we wouldn't have been exiled. Maybe if I had just let them kill me, they wouldn't have taken Brody…"

"That's enough," Hammie stood up, and Wendy's rambling stopped.

"Hey, show some sympathy will ya?" Doc protested.

"Brody's been taken, right?"

"Y-yes," Wendy whimpered.

"And they'll probably kill him, right?" Wendy silently nodded. "Then we can't waste any more time. Don't get me wrong. I'm sure there's a long, depressing story behind you and Brody and Jaggerjaw Island. I'm sure if I knew the story I'd understand things a bit better.

"Brody helped us. Now he's in danger. And the same guys who have him are the same who owe me a ship," Hammie cracked his knuckles. "I'm sorry, Wendy, but I can't be a shoulder to cry on right now. I'm too damn pissed off."

That moment, Jude emerged from the water hauling a large trunk. Despite his exhaustion, Jude immediately flung open the trunk and started flinging out a pile of soaked colorful clothes, "My suits! My jackets! My robes! My tuxedoes! My specially-tailored kimono! All ruined!" He slammed the trunk shut, "Someone will pay dearly for this."

"We're all payin' for it. Get a bloody fig leaf or somethin'!" Michael yelled from the peanut gallery.

"Don't worry about it, Jude," The fire finally dried out part of the rope as it snapped apart, freeing Hammie from its bonds. Hammie coiled up the rest of the rope and straightened his tool belt, "I'll go take care of this."

"Oh, you are not going alone," Jude's eyes burned with rage as he shoot his fist at the heavens, "Now, by the stock and honor of my kin, to strike them dead I hold it not a sin! None shall excuse the injuries that thou hast done me! Turn thee and look upon…"

"He's going to be at that a while," Hammie turned away as Jude continue his monologue and started to walk away when he noticed Michael following him. Hammie glanced over his shoulder and patted his back to make sure Michael hadn't put a sign or bait on his back.

"Somthin' wrong, Cap?" Michael stood relaxed.

"You know… you don't have to follow me just because I'm captain."

"I don't 'have' to do anythin'," Michael replied indignantly, "Jus' so happens that a few fishsticks pissed me off," he twirled his Boomers and reholstered them, "I'd jus' be more comfortable lettin' our dear Cap'n take point while I cover yer back."

"So… I'm the meat shield?" Hammie guessed.

Michael grinned, "Well, hey, what do ye know? Yer right, Doc, he is learnin'!"

"Well," Hammie sighed, "Let's get going then," The trio of Hammie, Michael, and Jude all marched inland, itching for a fight.

Doc shook his head as he stood by Wendy, taking a swig of his flask and counting down on his fingers. "3.. 2.. 1..."

Hammie sheepishly returned with Jude and Michael glaring at him impatiently, "Um, Wendy? Which way did they go?"

* * *

After an hour's walk led by a still recovering Wendy, the five arrived at a large, circular bay surrounded by stretches of small, thin coastline except for one opening at the far end. Jutting out of the water were a multitude of sharp rock towers with coral barbs nearly ten feet high each, scattered all throughout the bay. The water was crystal clear; Hammie could clearly see the ocean floor, including several shipwrecks next to the various rock towers.

"This is Jaggerjaw Bay. The bay's unsailable because of the sharp rocks and coral all over it, but it's the closest thing we have to a landmark so that's how the island got its name. If you look at a top-down map of the island you'd see it looks like a fish or more appropriately a shark, with Amity village at the dorsal fin, where we docked at the underbelly, and…"

"Holy crap, girlie!" Michael shouted as Wendy flinched, "If I'da known there'd be a full tour lecture I'd have rather searched on me own!"

"Sorry, I tend to ramble when I'm upset," Wendy reached out and pointed towards what looked like a three-tier pagoda floating in the middle of the bay between the rock towers, "That barge out in the middle of the bay. That's their headquarters. But if you try rowing out there, they'll shoot you out of the water."

"So we'll swim?" Hammie suggested.

"Swim? They're fishmen!" Wendy shouted, "If they catch you in the water, you're dead."

"Yeah, I doubt they'd ever expect one of the villagers to enter their little fort. Much less swim there. And even if they do have a guard posted regularly, Brody's kind of a big deal to them. I doubt any one of them would miss his, um, yeah…" Hammie trailed off as he realized he was entering a sensitive subject territory for Wendy right now. Interrupting himself, he turned to Michael and Doc, "By the way, either of you know where Takashi is?"

Doc shrugged, "He always goes off on his own like this. Meditating or training or something. Once he's gone solo, you don't go after him."

"What if we need him?"

Doc shook his head at Hammie, "Sorry. If he doesn't want to be found, it's best not to go looking. The last guy who tried that, we couldn't even find all the pieces. When Takashi's ready, he'll find us."

"We sure could use him now," Frustrated, Hammie started to draw in the sand, trying to figure out the best way to approach the barge, "How long can you two hold your breath?"

"Me?" Michael scoffed, seeming almost offended, "Worry about yerself! Yer the newbies!"

"I'm used to doing underwater repairs and working around noxious fumes," Hammie replied matter-of-factly.

"I've recited whole ballads without so much as a breath," Jude boasted. Michael glared at Jude in disgust, glancing down, then meeting his eye, feeling queasy just looking at Jude's new 'outfit.'

"Leopard spots? Really?"

Jude proudly displayed the only thing covering his body besides his mask, an orange and black spotted bikini brief, skintight and leaving nothing to the imagination. Despite this, Jude proudly displayed his asset for all to see, "It's the only waterproof clothes I own! The only thing I have to be grateful for is this venture will at least force you to bathe."

"Why ye snot-nosed lil…" Michael started unholstering his weapon as Doc tried to stop the bickering.

Before Hammie could get involved, Wendy ran up and wrapped her arms around Hammie, hugging him as tightly as possible, even though she barely came up to his chest, "Hammie… Be careful," she sobbed into his chest.

Hammie patted the poor girl on the head and smiled warmly, "Any idea where they'd keep Brody?"

Wendy shook her head ashamedly, "No human's ever set foot in there. I have no idea what it's like inside."

"Then we'll just scour the place top to bottom, free Brody, then go from there. You stay here. Find a good place to hide," Wendy silently nodded as Hammie walked back towards the still arguing Jude and Michael.

"All the ladies love me natural masculine musk."

"Oh, and here I thought you only slept with pigs in the figurative sense."

"When I'm done with ye, you'll need a mask fer the other half of yer ugly face."

"I'll forgive you for that if only because you are classless slug with no sense of aesthetics."

Picking up one in each arm, Hammie waded into the water with Doc taking a swig from his flask before following, both hoping that once the two had to hold their breath they would stop trying to kill each other.

Wendy watched the four disappear into the water, silently praying as she looked for a good place to hide. Unknown to her, a pair of eyes watched from the cover of the inland forest, watching and waiting. "Soon, my pet, soon... Uweeheehee.." the crab fishman cackled softly from his hiding spot, grinning in anticipation of his soon-to-be prey.

_To be continued…_

Author's Notes:

This isn't my favorite chapter, but it does bridge some necessary gaps. Real action next chapter, I promise. Speaking of which, still not sure whether to have the characters name their attacks anime-style or not. Would not mind the readers' opinions on the subject.


	8. The Assault

_Inside the fishman headquarters…_

The main hall of the pagoda was a large, circular room the size of a gymnasium. The walls decorated in the same coral that made up most of the furniture, including enough tables and chairs to fill a small restaurant, a grand piano, and two large but currently empty thrones. All of that was pushed to the side for now to make room for the fishmens' current main entertainment. Brody Martin was suspended in the middle of the room, his arms chained to the ceiling, his legs chained to the floor, and his body stretched painfully between. The fishmen all stood around him, each one taking turns at beating the crap out of Brody. Bruised, bloodied, and broken, but never once did he cry out, scream, or beg for mercy. Except for the occasional grunt forced out of him when someone jabbed him in the stomach, Brody was silent, even as his blood pooled on the floor.

Xiphias stood in front of the spectators but never took any swings himself. Eventually, he raised a hand and the beatings ceased, at least for the moment. "That's enough. Anymore and he'll pass out," Xiphias walked over to Brody and looked him over, estimating his injuries and pain, "Well? Anything to say for yourself?" There was no response except for Brody's cold stare. "Your silence is your guilt. Do you at least feel any remorse? Can't you at least pretend to atone for your crimes?"

Brody rolled his eyes, but beneath the bruises it was hard to tell, "Okay, I'm reeeally sorry about torturing prisoners. Oh, wait… That wasn't me, was it?"

"Don't misinterpret this. This is not torture."

"Could've fooled me," Brody chuckled, an act which caused a considerable amount of pain with his ribs at the moment.

"Nor is it an interrogation, nor is it a punishment," Xiphias continued.

"Oh, so I'm getting my ribs tenderized for my health?"

Xiphias returned the cold stare this time, "Not everything is about you, Brody. You've offended a lot men here with your actions, Brody. Your pain is their compensation."

On cue, several fishmen resumed beating Brody, shouting insults as they did so. "You bastard!" "You betrayed us!" "Do you have no shame?" "You're a disgrace to your race!" "This is what you get for showing your ugly mug back here!" Only when Xiphias motioned did they relent.

Brody had to wait for his lungs to work again before responding, "Funny, we never used to beat up chained men for the hell of it when I was in charge."

"Maybe that weakness is why you are no longer in charge."

Suddenly, Brody's body instinctively lunged as far as it could while chained, his face filled with animalistic rage and stopping just inches short of Xiphias's face. It was only slight, but for a brief split second, Xiphias flinched. "Unlock these chains and I'll show you what 'weakness' is," Brody growled.

"You have no honor to reclaim, Brody. Your dealings with humans have left you soft and complacent. You do not even deserve a warrior's death," Xiphias said with disgust.

"Then how do I deserve to die?" Brody's bloodlust seemed to subside, but his rage still lingered.

"That will be decided later, along with the fates of those pathetic humans you brought to the island," Xiphias replied stoically.

"Just let 'em be," Brody pleaded, "They aint' starting anything. And I know you couldn't care less about them."

Xiphias shrugged, "True, I have nothing but apathy for the humans and whether or not they live or die. But they are a foreign element to our home. You know as well as I do that they can't leave Jaggerjaw, so one of two things is going to happen. Either we kill them and dump their bodies in the ocean, or we can let them live."

"Awfully generous of you, all things considered," Brody remarked with sarcasm.

"However," Xiphias continued, "If we let them live, we have to make sure they will fall into line with the rest of the populace. A rebellious element that could incite the other humans might be…"

"A threat?" Brody offered.

"An annoyance. We cannot afford to slaughter every mule in the village. But it's not like you have any influence in that matter, and I suppose you have more pressing concerns at the moment."

"It doesn't have to be like this, Xiphias. You don't want us around, I can take them and leave. Forever this time," Brody pleaded.

"A traitor deserves more than a slap on the wrist," Xiphias said with spite.

"I never betrayed anyone in my life and I never will!" Brody shouted with pride, his booming voice echoing throughout the chamber. This time, it was the rest of the fishmens' turn to flinch, backing away slightly from the chained but still intimidating Brody. Besides Xiphias, only one other fishman retained his composure.

"Oh, puhleeze!," Charlie casually stepped from the crowd rolling his eyes, "Just do us all the favor and spare us the 'holier than thou act.' Because I got news for you, 'ex-captain.' You ain't better than any of us anymore," Charlie mocked, "Once upon a time we followed you. We looked up to you. We trusted you even when you said we were going to live alongside humans. Hell, most fishmen here would have died in your name (myself not included). But then you had to go and ruin at all. I mean it's one thing to work with humans. We could wrap our heads around that because it was a good business arrangement despite the whole humans-being-involved aspect of the deal. It's another thing altogether to sleep with one. But not just any human. Oh, no. You couldn't just have a little saucy affair and give us a bad name," Charlie's speech was growing more heated, "You had to rub salt in the wound and kick dirt in our faces. You had to have THAT human," he shouted in Brody's face. Lowering his volume again, Charlie glanced over Brody with contempt and pity, "Now look at yourself. You've got nothing to show for it, no one by your side, and you're going to die alone and disgraced. Where are your little human friends now?"

Suddenly, the whole room started loudly clanging, catching all the fishmen off guard. Xiphias, annoyed, scanned the room, focusing on Charlie Sunkissed, "All right, who set off the false alarm?"

Charlie raised his arms in innocence, "Don't look at me. I was right here all along this time."

"It's not a false alarm," spoke a feminine disembodied voice.

Xiphias walked over to an open pipe on the wall used for communication throughout the pagoda and spoke into it, "What was that Natalie?"

"There are intruders on the ship. Humans," the voice replied through the pipe.

Xiphias turned to Brody, "Well, Brody, looks like your new human friends have chosen their fate. They will have the honor of being the first human trespassers to be killed on this, the warship of our ancestors," Xiphias motioned to the four muscular fishmen who were beating Brody earlier, "You four, come with me. The rest of you, fan out and search the ship."

"Perhaps I should guard Brody in the meanwhile," Natalie suggested.

"If you like, sure," Xiphias flipped a pair of switches on the wall and the chains holding Brody's legs to the floor released while the higher chain retracted, pulling Brody up through a hole in the ceiling to one of the upper floors. Xiphias exited the main hall, brute squad in tow, "Let's go. These humans will not be able to hide for…" Xiphias didn't have to search long, as on the other side of the hall just outside the door was an equally surprised Hammie. Xiphias and the sheepishly grinning human stared at each other until Hammie broke the silence.

"Well… This is awkward," Hammie scratched his head, and said with some uncertainty, "Um, surrender now, I guess, and I'll only hurt you a little bit?"

Xiphias twitched. "From a fishman, those words would be courageous at best. Coming from a human, they are foolish. Coming from something like you, those words are an insult. You will be banished from our sacred home," Xiphias turned to another of the ship's communication pipes, "Natalie! Do the ship's defense mechanisms still work?"

"Not sure since we've never used them before. Only one way to find out." The voice caused Hammie to look around for the source.

"Then do it," Xiphias ordered.

"Do what now?" Hammie asked. At that moment, the entire hallway started to shake and rumble.

"This ship has a much older history than merely our humble crew," Xiphias explained, "It was once a warship used against the humans during the great war, and it has a unique method of dealing with unwanted groundwalking trespassers."

Hammie glanced out a nearby porthole and noticed the ocean seemed to slowly rise. Or, as he soon realized, it was the other way around, "It's submerging… This is a submarine?"

"Correct, but unlike any submarine you're used to, this one doesn't just submerge the outside of the craft." The fishmen around Xiphias smirked and chuckled as Xiphias himself remained expressionless.

Hammie raised an eyebrow in confusion as a cool sensation swept over his feet. He looked down and saw he was now standing in about an inch of water that was slowly rising in unison with the outside ocean level. "You're sinking your own ship?"

"While technically true, this ship is perfectly functional even fully submerged, and once we drag you and your friends' drowned carcasses out, we can surface and drain the water. If you leave now, you and your friends might have a couple minutes to run away and maybe escape the ship before it sinks entirely. However, if any of your friends are on one of the upper levels, where there are no exits or windows large enough to fit through, then they will drown. You, on the other hand, have a much worse problem."

"What's that?" Suddenly, the rumbling turned into a roar, and at the end of the hallway behind the fishmen Hammie could see a hallway-filling wave burst through the doors. "Oh…" Hammie immediately turned and bolted down the hallway. As the wave crashed into the fishmen from behind, Xiphias wasn't even budged from his spot while the other fishmen actually swam through the rushing water with ease, giving the surging water several sets of sharp teeth and muscled brutes, as if Hammie wouldn't have found the situation terrifying enough already. "Holycrapgottafindstairs. Holycrapgottafindstairs." Hammie burst through the door to find himself at the bottom of a spiral stairwell that ran throughout the entirety of the pagoda. Without any time to congratulate his luck, Hammie took his rope, this time with a weighted clasp firmly attached to the end, and hurled it up, catching one of the upper stair railings. He scurried up the rope faster than he ever had climbed before. The water surged through the door, filling the entire first story of the stairwell and continuing to rise. It blasted upward like a geyser, and Hammie could feel it splashing against his feet. The rising water finally slowed merely half a level beneath where Hammie was latched to the staircase, as he finally breathed a sigh of relief, "Well, that was close."

"Was it, now?" Hammie glanced over and saw Xiphias actually standing on the surface of the rising water as if it was solid ground. No, that wasn't quite right. The fishman was ankle-deep, but still had nothing to support him but the water. Not only that, but four large silhouettes beneath the water circled the staircase pillar where Hammie was trapped, only four dorsal fins showing of the predators beneath. "You are just trapping yourself further in this flooding labyrinth. Though honestly, even if you had escaped, we would have simply caught you before you could reach the shore. Either way, you forfeited your life the moment you entered Jaggerjaw bay…"

"So, what powers the light in here, anyway?" Hammie glanced around at the covered hall lights he sincerely doubted were candle-lit, "Steam-generated electricity I'm assuming?"

For the moment, Xiphias was dumbfounded. "What does that have to… What are you doing?"

Hammie seemed to ignore his plight for the moment as he was fiddling with his tools. First, he firmly clasped one end of the rope to himself, an act which to Xiphias seemed quite contradictory to the purpose of escaping the rising water and bloodthirsty fishmen, rendering him confused and curious to the human's actions. Next, Hammie donned a pair of black-tinted goggles and two thick rubber gloves. "Safety first," Hammie said with a cheerful smile.

Leaping from the protection of the stairwell, Hammie swung himself on the rope over the swirling water and frenzying fishmen below. The fishmen took some swings to try and catch him, but the closest any of them got was a boot to the face. Clinging to the wall on the other side, next to one of the sealed lights, Hammie drew his arm back and rammed it into the wall immediately next to the light, punching straight through. His arm drew back, holding a fistful of thick wires. "Now for the tricky part." Xiphias suddenly realized what the human was planning, but the fishmen still watched confused. Securing himself with his feet and the rope, Hammie pulled out a large utility knife and chopped through the wires in one strike. The exposed wires sparked and crackled loudly, and Hammie, taking great care not to shock himself, let them drop. Xiphias quickly leaped from the water and thrust his scabbard-covered nose into the stairwell wall to hold himself, watching as the electric wires hit the water. The lights in the stairwell flickered on and off as the water flared with electricity like a thunderstorm soup, and the four caught fishmen could only flail helplessly and scream until they lost consciousness. The lights flickered some more before the whole room grew dark, the only light coming in through a glass ceiling at the top of the stairwell.

"I hope that wasn't too much voltage. I'd feel real bad if one of them got permanent nerve damage or something," said Hammie, completely sincere and devoid of sarcasm, which only outraged Xiphias more.

"You! What sort of cowardly tactic is this?" From the angle he was currently stuck, Xiphias could barely see the human.

"Oh, and flooding the hallway is perfectly acceptable?" replied Hammie indignantly.

Xiphias was silent. Not only was he outwitted, but his dishonor exposed. "You are a fool for challenging us, but a cunning fool it seems."

"Just so you know, you can still surrender. I'll go easy on you," said Hammie with a smile until he noticed Xiphias performing strange motions with his hands, "Um, what's that?"

Xiphias spoke as a monk in meditation would, "The martial art where the ocean itself becomes an extension of our bodies. The fighting style which proves our evolutionary superiority. Without even touching the ocean, we can manipulate it to do our bidding…" As he spoke, the waves rocked back and forth in a somewhat unnatural pattern.

"Oh that's not good at all," Hammie said with concern as he braced himself.

"**Fishman Karate: Crashing Wave!"** As he finished the maneuver, the electrified water rocked back before lunging forward. Fortunately for Hammie, he was nowhere near where it hit, but all of the water in the stairwell destroyed the wall where it hit, blasting to the outside of the pagoda and draining outside. Finally, the stairwell was clear and what water that was left didn't pose a hazard to neither the human nor the fishman.

Hammie relaxed for a moment but remained hooked in place where he was, "Looks like the charge is gone. Good for you. But now it should take longer to flood the ship, right? Good for me. So let's call it a draw, okay?"

Xiphias landed on the ground and grasped the scabbard around his nose, grimacing. "I will give you the honor of dying by my hand, whether you are worthy of it or not."

"Now, now, let's not get ahead of ourselves, Xiphias," came a voice above the both of them.

Xiphias glanced up to see the annoying grin of the self-proclaimed fishman musician, Charlie Sunkissed, "Charlie, how long have you been there?"

Charlie just smiled as if he was just getting to the punch line. "Long enough. Listen, X, I'm going to do you a favor. I know how you don't like to get your hands dirty with the low-ranking schmucks like this shipwright here."

"Actually, I'm… er… captain," said Hammie sheepishly.

Charlie laughed loudly in response, "Ha! Good one! I like this guy, he has a sense of humor. Anyway, I figure I'd give you the chance to go find their real boss."

"You're just volunteering to kill this human?"

Charlie shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, I'm just not as picky about picking off small-fry as you are. You see a lack of a challenge, I see a fun little diversion."

Xiphias shook his head, "Fine. Do with him as you will, as long as he's dead at the end of it."

"No, really, I'm the captain. Actually I'm as shocked as you are about it," Hammie insisted despite being ignored.

"Hey, kid?" Charlie called out, "You like engineering stuff, right? You want to hear something cool?"

"Huh?" Hammie said, momentarily distracted.

"Something I just found out about this ship. Apparently, the submerging thingy pumps water from the ocean through a few central pipes to all the rooms at once. So, while you'd think the bottom floor would fill with water first before the second one and so on and so forth, it turns out that some rooms fill up faster than others, and that what floor they're on isn't as much of a factor as you'd think. For example…" Charlie elbowed the door behind him and it immediately started spurting small jets of water through the leaks. Charlie crouched down as if he were about to dive into the deep end. **"Fishman Karate: Speeding Sea Bullet!"** Suddenly, the doors behind him burst open as a wall of water rushed forward with Charlie riding it. As soon as he realized the situation, Hammie tried undoing the clasp on the rope, but it was too little too late. Charlie and the wave slammed into Hammie dead-on, the wave knocking them both through the wall, out the pagoda, and into the sea.

Xiphias sighed in annoyance, "Perhaps submerging the ship was premature, even if it is the procedure for dealing with human boarders." Walking back into the hallway, noticing the 'submerging' of the ship was barely a trickle now, Xiphias turned to the nearest communication pipe. "Natalie, status report."

The female voice replied, "Submerging is going slower than expected. I'm detecting some problems in the north stairwell."

"The humans are clever. There are exposed wires and several large holes in the wall."

There was a moment of silence, no doubt the voice on the other end was trying to comprehend how that kind of damage could have happened, "Understood. I'll need to seal off that level so we don't electrocute the whole ship. We will be fully submerged in about 20 minutes. Also, I've lost contact with the main room. Shall I send someone to investigate?"

"No. I'll look into it myself." Xiphias reasoned the communication pipes had been damaged at some point in the attack. After all, the majority of the crew were still in the main hall, and someone should have answered.

When Xiphias opened the door, however, he was frozen in shock. Lying all around the room were the prone bodies of a good portion of the crew. Many were quietly moaning in agony, or even completely unconscious. Xiphias couldn't find anyone who was clearly dead, just disabled. Sitting across one of the thrones with his feet on the second was the most vile sight Xiphias had seen in a long while: a nearly naked human in nothing but bikini briefs and a half-mask. The human leisurely munched an apple, turned to Xiphias and smiled proudly.

"You did this?" Xiphias's voice shook in rage.

"I take it this is where you entertain guests? Your friends didn't give me a very warm reception," sneered Jude as scornfully as possible.

Xiphias twitched. "And what, pray tell, are you supposed to be?"

"Me? Why, it's your lucky day!" Jude tossed the apple which bounced off the head of one of the groaning fishmen and grabbed a nearby rapier, giddily hopping up from the chairs, taking an elegant bow as he did so, "You and whomever is still conscious in this room are about to receive a truly astounding spectacle from the world's greatest entertainer, Jude Carson!" Jude resounded in his stage voice.

"You're a comedian then?" Xiphias spat in disgust.

"Comedian, tragedian, artist, thespian, actor, singer, dancer, writer, orator, poet, puppeteer, ventriloquist, mime, magician, storyteller, swordsman, and general masked man of mystery and admiration," Jude boasted.

"Swordsman?" The fishman, in his anger, was now intrigued, "Do you have any skill?"

"Simply put, I'm the best." Preparing for the inevitable, Jude readied his blade.

"I sincerely doubt that." Xiphias grasped the 3-foot scabbard around his nose. "But hopefully you're competent enough for at least a few minutes of distraction. I think I will take you up on your offer of entertainment." The swordfish fishman tossed away the scabbard, revealing a sharpened, 3-foot bone and cartilage blade. "En garde."

"And action!" Jude replied as both lunged from across the room to cross swords.

* * *

On the second floor of the pagoda, a lone human wandered the halls searching the rooms. He had felt the rumbling from earlier, but had no other reason to think anything of it.

"Damn, it's quiet. I thought I'd at least run into a guard or someone by now. This place doesn't look like it'd be that big from the outside." A medicine symbol was engraved on one of the doors, and Doc smiled, suddenly realizing exactly where he wanted to be. "Hm, maybe they're patching up the fishdude in between torture sessions. Well, I guess it's worth a look," Doc spoke to himself, completely alone in the hallway. Slowly he let himself into the infirmary. He glanced around the operating table, trays of various medical tools, and medicine cabinets. "Nope, no fishdude in sight. Oh well. While I'm here, I guess I better stock up on supplies," Doc immediately flung open the medicine cabinets and started to pocket whatever he could, only occasionally stopping to read the label, "Sea king tranquilizer, huh? I bet this'll go great in a martini." Suddenly, Doc collapsed, his leg searing with pain and no longer doing as it was told. "What the… My leg? Just like what happened to Michael…"

"You shouldn't have gotten greedy," stepping from a nearby office, the translucent, dreadlocked fishman from the bar. "I don't really care if someone's snooping around or not, but I can't have my med supplies bein' raided, mon."

The pain was spreading, and Doc instantly recognized the symptoms. "A neurotoxin?"

"That's right, mon." From his 'dreadlocks', the fishman extended several long, blue tendrils, "I'm Dr. Mambo, the jellyfishman doctor of the Tiburones Gemelos, and I can no longer let ya leave here alive."

* * *

On the top floor of the pagoda, Michael kicked open a steel door, casually strolling through, looking for trouble, "All right, top floor, there's gotta be some action up here!" Looking around the room, Michael found himself in a large room filled with gears, cogs, pipes, and other various mechanisms, intertwined with various coral decorations and large shells. Between all the machines and the steam they spat out, it was impossible to even see the ceiling or the other end of the room. Michael eyed the various machines with glee, "Well, this all looks like delicate machinery. It'd be a real shame if somethin' unfortunate were to malfunction due to unforeseen circumstances," His eyes finally locked on to the large, blue body of Brody, chained up and lying in the center of the room. Not seeing anyone else, Michael rolled his eyes and strolled forward, "Jus' my luck." He rolled Brody over on his back, looking over the fishman. As soon as Brody saw who Michael was, a look of panic washed over the fishman's face.

"Michael?" Brody shouted.

"Hey, I don't like ye either. Hell, if circumstances were different I might'a just shot ye where ye lie," Michael squatted down by Brody, the better to rant at him.

"Get out of here now while you still can!" Brody flailed about in his chains.

"Keep yer gills on, I'll let ye go, if only because I hate these clown fish more," Michael continued without any sense of urgency, "But seriously, ye used to be cap'n of this bunch? And ye let 'em mutiny on ye? That's pretty pathetic even by me low standards. I mean, look at 'em. Didn't even bother to post a guard."

A loud clang got both of their attention, as the large steel door had swung shut. Ignoring Brody, Michael leaped up to the door and tugged as hard as he could, only to find a thick layer of slime covering the door making it impossible to budge. Even with both feet on the door and pulling, the door wouldn't move. Not only that, but the whatever the slime was kept Michael stuck as well.

"Bloody hell!"

"I tried to warn you," said an exasperated Brody.

"It ain't budgin'! What the bloody hell is this stuff? It's like someone ate a tub o' super glue and crapped it on the door!" Michael still pulled, hoping to at least get his limbs off the door,

"Pull as hard as you want. It won't come off," the female voice echoed throughout the room, but both Michael and Brody could still tell the source, and much to Michael's confusion it seemed to be a large, man-sized nautilus shell. He had assumed it to be part of the room's weird decorum.

"Why the bloody hell is the furniture talking?"

"That's Natalie," Brody replied.

Something started oozing out of the shell. What Michael first thought was an amorphous blob extended into a humanoid shape, and once fully out and once Michael's eyes adjusted, a woman in a skintight turtleneck gradually took shape. She had all the features and shape of an attractive woman, except for three very noticeable differences. Her body from the waist down seemed to be the shell itself instead of any actual legs, her eyes were actually on two stalks attached to where a human's eyes would be, and her entire body minus the shell was wreathed in a greenish-brown slime.

"That's right," the snail-woman said scowling, "I'm the nautilus sea snail fishwoman Natalie, engineer, cartographer, and quartermaster for the Tiburones Gemelos.

Michael stared at Natalie for a few seconds in silence, blinking his eyes and shaking his head as if that would somehow wake him from his predicament before shouting, "WHAT IN THE NINE BLOODY HELLS IS THAT THING?"

"No, Michael!" Brody warned.

Natalie crossed her arms, annoyed, "What's your problem?"

"It's hideous! It's grotesque! I won't be able to sleep for months lest this thing shows up in me nightmares!" ranted Michael.

"N-No, Natalie, don't listen to him," Brody said with as much flattery as possible, trying to get Natalie's attention so Michael would hopefully be ignored, "You're a beautiful gal. You're gonna have to beat off the boys with a stick."

"Aye, probably breaks their legs so they can't run while it devours 'em whole. Probably uses the ugly stick it's been flogged with for its entire life."

"Damnit, Michael, I'm serious! If you want to live through this, shut the hell up!" Brody shouted, but as he did, he could see Natalie's fists clench as her whole body started trembling, "Oh no, too late!"

Suddenly, Natalie erupted in anger, screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs, "I'M UGLY, AM I? WHEN I'M DONE WITH YOU, YOU'LL BE NOTHING BUT A BLOOD-SMEARED CRAP-STAIN ON THE WALL! THEN WE'LL SEE WHO'S UGLY!"

"Crap-stain on the wall?" Michael immediately replied, never missing a beat, "Is that yer favored brand o' perfume or is it makeup? Must be hard comin' upon some slime-proof lipstick. An' bloody hell forget the perfume. Ye need a fire hose, a pound o' bleach, an' a stack o' air fresheners."

"RAAAAAAGH!" Blinded by rage, the snail woman attacked.

* * *

On the coast of Jaggerjaw Bay, amongst the thick brush, Wendy paced in the quiet of the wilderness, glancing at the pagoda, but unable to tell what, if anything, was happening, "If only there was something I could do… Anything at all." She laid back in the dirt, looking at the afternoon sun overhead shining through the trees. "Damnit, Brody and Hammie and everyone are putting their lives on the line, and I can't even know if they're all right?" A low boom made a nearby flock of birds scattered. "What was that?" Wendy jolted up and peaked at the pagoda, seeing a small waterfall pour out the side before stopping. Before Wendy could figure out what had happened, a second boom sounded along with a second waterfall pouring out the same side. "That means we're winning, right?" She couldn't completely be convinced even by her own optimism. That's when she noticed the barge looked a little shorter than before. It took a moment for the wheels in her head to click, "It's sinking! Even if they won, if they don't get out soon with Brody, Hammie and the others will drown. Or worse, if they have to fight all the fishmen in the water, they'll never win." Wendy's mind quickly switched from fear to determination. "I know what I can do to help." She ran from her cover to the bay, ready to dive in.

Suddenly, a boulder moved in front of her and she ran straight into it. Wendy fell backward onto the sand, not seriously hurt but rubbing her nose in pain. "Owie…"

"And where do we think we are going, mon cherie?" the boulder said gleefully. Wendy looked up. What felt like solid rock against her face was instead the shelled armor of the crab fishman, Torteau, with the same long, thin smile he always wore, "You know, I have not been with this crew very long, and I must say it is not pleasant being the new chef amongst a group of such comraderie. No one really understands me or shares my interests."

"Wow, sounds like a real bummer," Wendy sympathized as she tried edging away.

"It is a disappointment, oui," Torteau casually mirrored Wendy's movements, pursuing her if she backed away and blocking her if she tried to get past, even as he continued speaking, "But you know what I miss the most? I used to prepare the most delectable cuisines every day. But when you have to cook for a couple dozen palate-less philistines you find yourself making the same peasant dishes day after day after day. Try to suggest something new, something exciting, and you get nothing but rejection."

"Uh-huh. Um, say, could I just get by…?" Wendy tried, but to no avail as the crab fishman continued his story.

"So, I'm stuck in this culinary gutter when suddenly, I get a fantastic idea. I don't have to share my talents with the crew. I can get my own ingredients, prepare my own dishes, and the crew can just have their usual bland, boring stew. I don't have to try to appeal to the mongrels of society, and I can dine elegantly every night."

"Good for you. Oh my gosh, according to my wrist I'm running late so I'll just…" Wendy tried bolting, but Torteau cut her off, his face getting very uncomfortably close to hers as he started whispering.

"You know what the best dish I've ever had is? Hm?"

Wendy smiled weakly, "I'm partial to blueberry pie myself."

Torteau shook his head and somehow his smile grew, "Non non non. The most difficult meat to prepare, but by far the most rewarding, comes from human flesh," Wendy stared in horror and shock, as Torteau's face contorted madly with excitement, "You see, for a long while I had the opportunity to learn all the various techniques for preparing all sorts of meat cut from that most elusive creature. It was all I ate for weeks. And I discovered the best human veal you can get comes from young, healthy, virginal women." Wendy's flight response finally kicked in and she bolted as fast as she could, only for her arm to be caught in Torteau's giant pincer. "Now, now, no running away now. I no longer have any taste for fast food." Torteau started dragging Wendy, even as Wendy struggled and started hitting Torteau with her free hand to no avail, "Do not worry, I will not kill you. Not for a while at least. If I killed you, the meat would spoil too quickly. And we would not want to waste any, now would we?" Torteau's other pincer grabbed Wendy's free arm, "No struggling now, I do not want to bruise the meat unless I have to, but…" Torteau's eyes started to glaze over in animalistic bloodlust, "It has been so long… Perhaps just a taste…" Wendy screamed in horror.

Suddenly, a flash of light wedged itself between Wendy's arms and Torteau's claws. An intense pain seared the inside of Torteau's claws, and a great pressure threw the two apart. Before either could process what had happened, a lone man stood perfectly still between the two, katana unsheathed and his long braid just now settling from the movement of the attack, glaring at Torteau.

"T-Takashi?" Wendy stammered in disbelief.

Takashi's focus remained on the crab fishman, "Your opponent will be me."

Torteau rubbed his claws together in pain, but slowly his annoyed scowl morphed into an anticipating smile. "On the other hand, a human who works in the kitchen must have a truly unique flavor," Torteau menacingly clapped his pincers together, "I think you will be the appetizer."

_To be continued…_

Author's Notes: Holy crap! A chapter done in less than two months? Surely this nothing short of a miracle! [/sarcasm] Big chapter too. But I had a lot of fun writing it.

Based on everyone's opinions, I've obviously decided to go with the whole attack-naming thing, cheesy though it may be (but hey, that's why we love One Piece, right?)

Enjoy!


	9. The Speedster of Jaggerjaw

_"You're just volunteering to kill this human?"_

_Charlie shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, I'm just not as picky about picking off small-fry as you are. You see a lack of a challenge, I see a fun little diversion."_

_Xiphias shook his head, "Fine. Do with him as you will, as long as he's dead at the end of it."_

_Charlie elbowed the door behind him and it immediately started spurting small jets of water through the leaks. Charlie crouched down as if he were about to dive into the deep end. "__**Fishman Karate: Speeding Sea Bullet!" **__Suddenly, the doors behind him burst open as a wall of water rushed forward with Charlie riding it. As soon as he realized the situation, Hammie tried undoing the clasp on the rope, but it was too little too late. Charlie and the wave slammed into Hammie dead-on, the wave knocking them both through the wall, out the pagoda, and into the sea._

* * *

The first crash Hammie felt was the concentrated tidal wave plus one full-bodied fishman slamming into him.

The second was when his back went through several layers of wall.

The third was when he crashed into the water, which at this height might as well have been solid ground except instead of stopping, Hammie's body kept falling.

The final crash was when Hammie was slammed into solid earth at the bottom of the bay.

Every part of his body writhed in pain, all of his senses were disoriented, and as his eyes adjusted in the water he could barely make out the speeding torpedo some distance away, circling around for another pass. His body quickly realizing the sudden lack of air in the immediate vicinity, Hammie instinctively swam straight up, only for a blur speeding by to knock him back down. By the time his brain and eyes could reorient themselves and decide which way was up, the blur would come back around and hit Hammie again like an underwater truck. Hammie tried to focus, to think clearly, but his entire brain screamed for air, as he hadn't even had the chance to take a breath when he was thrown into the ocean. Only by focusing on a whining noise that pierced the waters could Hammie try to regain focus. The noise went in and out of focus, and as Hammie's ears stopped ringing, he could barely make out the fishman's words that went in and out of focus as he sped by Hammie each time, but somehow rang out clearly even under the ocean waters.

"…at's the matter, there, huma…"

"…eed a breath of fresh ai…"

"…ope you can hold your breath a long ti…"

Only when Hammie crashed into the ocean floor again could he start to make sense of things. _Okay, up. Up's the exact opposite of where I just went._

Hammie adjusted himself again, willing himself to at least stand on the ocean floor for now. His brain was screaming and his lungs were burning, but he had to ignore them for now. The speeding blur stopped in its tracks some distance away. _The fishman from earlier. What did that other guy call him? Charlie? Does this guy ever shut up?_

"Aw, come on, what's the matter, tuckered out already? I can understand having to catch your breath, but that's pretty difficult where you're standing," the fishman grinned, "See, that's just one advantage of me being a fishman. I can breathe with my gills and not have to stop talking or anything. I can literally do this all day long."

_I guess not. __I'm going to need something special if I want to get past this guy, so how about… where are my tools? _Hammie reached for his tool belt, only to find nothing there. _Crap! Must've been knocked loose when he hit me. It could be still on the barge or anywhere on the ocean floor. I've got nothing to work with!_

"If it were any other fishman, you might be able to pull a fast one on them and manage to get up to the surface long enough for a breath or two. They're kind of stupid like that," Charlie continued to ramble, "You see, a regular sea tuna can swim with the speed and velocity of a bullet, so take that, add the old evolutionary fishman muscle behind it, and you get something more akin to a torpedo that just keeps coming and coming after you, but if you're not going to come up here, then I guess I'll just come down to your level!" Suddenly, Charlie started to snap his fingers in rhythm, or at least something close to rhythm, "Because while I can't tune a pi~an~oooo~!" The fishman launched downward, turning once again into a speeding blur, this time racing across the ocean floor at Hammie. Instead of just a hit-and-run, this time the blur caught Hammie head-on, taking him with it, as Hammie once again lost his orientation as his back crashed through rock several times, the whole time the torpedo crushing his gut was singing in an even more warped sound, "I am a tunaaaaa fiiiiiiiish~maaaaaaaaaaaaaan." Finally, Hammie was slammed back into the ground and the blur sped away again, still singing. "I think I hear an encore coming on!"

Hammie's vision started to blur and shift colors. _Ow… Got to focus… Okay, what… what just happened?_ Trying to shake off yet another possible concussion, Hammie looked up to see several large narrow rocks falling in the distance. _Those rock formations in the bay. He must have taken me for a tour straight through them._ Looking around, Hammie found himself in a forest of various rock and coral spire formations. _I can work with this. What else do I know?_ Hammie's eye caught the blur some distance away as it was just arcing around for another pass. _He doesn't attack me head-on when I'm on the ground. He first gets some distance so he's swimming parallel to the ground. He must not be able to make sharp turns when he's attacking._ Hammie quickly swam up this time, the plan forming in his head as he kept his eye on Charlie making his way around. _Just a little closer._

Charlie watched as Hammie swam alongside of the stone spires, "Aw, how cute, the little human thinks he's going to pull a fast one on me. Let me guess. Swim out of the way at the last second and I unknowingly crash right into the stone pillar and knock myself out, is that it, little human?" Charlie taunted as, right on cue, Hammie turned to face Charlie and waited in the water, "There's just one problem with your little plan. I can go straight through these rocks with no trouble at all!" Just as Charlie predicted, Hammie pushed himself straight up in just enough time for the fishman to miss him and plow straight through the stone tower, boulders flying in all directions from the impact. Charlie stopped a good distance away to watch his handiwork. "I wonder how many rocks he got hit with. I hope the tower falls on him this time too," Charlie smiled as he surveyed his handiwork, but couldn't see the human amongst the rubble, "Where did…?" Charlie glanced upward to see one of the larger coral pieces from the crash floating quickly towards the surface with Hammie clutching onto it for dear life. "Well, I'll be a sea monkey's uncle…" Charlie raced upward, determined to cut the human off before he reached the surface.

The quick pressure change hit Hammie like a constant punch in the gut. His vision blurred even more, but the surface was still only moments away. _Almost there…_ He couldn't see Charlie, but already knew the fishman was racing to catch him. Grasping the top of the coral rock, Hammie thrusted it down, propelling himself upward and luckily catching Charlie with the debris as well. Charlie burst through the coral without a problem, but slowed down just enough. Hammie was only feet away from the surface as Charlie reached out to grab the human's leg.

With a loud gasp, Hammie erupted from the water, inhaling like a roaring lion in reverse. Not two seconds later, Hammie's leg was yanked back under as he barely kept from inhaling a gallon of water. His entire body still burned in agony, but at least the somewhat less strain on his lungs made the experience a relief overall. His brain could at least start to think clearly again. This time, instead of letting the fishman take him for another ride, Hammie swung his leg and Charlie was flung off, spinning wildly. Now stable in the water, Hammie for the first time was able to distinguish a distinct pressure on his forehead, one that actually didn't stem from an injury. He felt his forehead to find his goggles. Hammie smiled, sliding the goggles down without letting water in, the ocean turned from a shadowy, foggy blue to crystal clear, right down to the panicked look on Charlie's face. Hammie slammed his fists together in anticipation. _Round two…_

* * *

_"You shouldn't have gotten greedy," stepping from a nearby office, the translucent, dreadlocked fishman from the bar. "I don't really care if someone's snooping around or not, but I can't have my med supplies bein' raided, mon."_

_The pain was spreading, and Doc instantly recognized the symptoms. "A neurotoxin?"_

_"That's right, mon." From his 'dreadlocks', the fishman extended several long, blue tendrils, "I'm Dr. Mambo, the jellyfishman doctor of the Tiburones Gemelos, and I can no longer let ya leave here alive."_

* * *

Doc collapsed into a crumpled heap, prompting the jellyfishman to pick him up and help him into a small chair. "It's a paralytic toxin my body secretes. In small doses it just flares de nerves, causing loss of movement. In large concentrations, it can be fatal. In de dose, you've taken, it'll be enough to numb your whole body. Hopefully, dat will make t'ings less painful for you when dis room floods."

The only motor control Doc had left was for his head and neck. He might as well have been strapped to the chair or encased in cement. The only thing he could still do is speak. "I don't get it. If you're going to all this trouble, why not just kill me?"

"Don't wanna, mon," Mambo shrugged.

Doc's thoughts raced through the possibilities, "Experiments, then? Torture?"

Mambo laughed, "No, not'ing dat sinister. Killing's just against my morals. Man of healing and all."

"So you're going to leave me to drown? That doesn't sound like it'd fit the whole 'man of healing' bit."

"All killing is against my morals, including euthanasia," Mambo started packing away various tools and medicines away in cabinets, locking them tight, and strapping down furniture as water began to pool the room, "If there was a way I could save you, I would. But if any of the others found out I let a human go, I'd be in the same position as Brody," he explained somberly, "I truly am sorry for me cowardice, but there's little I can do but try to ease your pain some."

"In that case," Doc sighed, "Mind granting a dying man a last request?"

"If it be wit'in me power, sure."

"A cigar would be great, for starters," said Doc hopefully.

Mambo shook his head. "Sorry, mon. I don't carry around dose toxic t'ings."

"It's okay. I have some in my left jacket pocket. It's just a little hard to reach them in my current state. Would you mind?" Doc grinned, "It's not like it'll set off a fire alarm or anything. The flood will put it out when it puts me out." Mambo sighed, reaching into the jacket pocket with one of his tendrils, pulling out a small cigar case and a lighter, obliging the Doc's request as he puffed the newly lit cigar. "Much-obliged."

"Is that all, then?" asked Mambo.

"Well, I could use some conversation to pass my last few moments on this mortal coil," said Doc.

"And what, praytell, should we talk about? The weather?"

"I'd like to know why I'm going to drown on a fishman barge on an island in the middle of nowhere. Even death row inmates know why they're going to be executed."

Mambo paused, "Very well, I suppose that's de least you deserve…" The jellyfishman sat across from Doc, just as the slowly rising water was becoming ankle deep.

* * *

Charlie couldn't get a clean hit on Hammie anymore. This time, when he got close, even with his velocity, the human would kick or swat him away, or at the very least would swim just enough out of the way that Charlie would only land a glancing blow. A few times, the human even managed to grab Charlie as he rocketed past, throwing him at the nearest hard surface. Each time, Charlie managed to correct himself before hitting anything, but each time he also stopped a little closer to the ocean floor or a nearby rock spire. _I don't get it._ _He only got the one breath and hasn't even attempted to go up for more since. He should've been dead a long time ago. He shouldn't even have any strength in the water, but he's tossing me around like a ragdoll. If anything, he seems to be getting stronger._ Charlie paused, considering a better approach, as he saw Hammie resume swimming again, this time straight down towards him. "All right, this isn't funny anymore. Time to get serious." Charlie's hands moved intricately in the water, as it seemed to bend around him, "You thought I was fast before? That was just my natural swim speed. I can propel myself even further with some well-placed Fishman Karate moves." Spinning in place, the fishman slowly transformed into a miniature underwater vortex. "**Fishman Karate: Corkscrew Torpedo!**" Charlie launched forward, now less of a blur and more of a spiral blue streak.

_He's fa- _This time, there was no chance to dodge. The living missile slammed straight into Hammie's gut. _How the- _For a split second, Hammie thought his chest would split open before he was knocked to the side. Before he could react, his back was struck the same way. Once again, Hammie was disoriented as Charlie collided with him several times a second from multiple angles. _Okay- _**SLAM!** _Enough of- _**SLAM!** _Stop it- _**SLAM!** _You've gotta- _**SLAM!** **SLAM! SLAM!**

Frustrated, Hammie punched a random direction, and sure enough, struck the missile as it passed, the spiraling currents dissipating into... nothing.

"Oops! Looks like our contestant guessed wrong," Charlie floated some distance away, grinning confidently.

_When did he-_ **SLAM!** As Hammie was struck in the back again, Charlie doubled over laughing, never having moved from his spot.

"If I can get the water to propel me with that kind of force, why shouldn't I be able to propel the water itself as a weapon? **Fishman Karate: Torpedo Frenzy!** Charlie launched himself again, but instead of one missile, there were three, each indistinguishable from each other as they launched at Hammie from multiple angles.

_No opening!_ **SLAM! SLAM! SLAM!** The barrage of water missiles hit Hammie from all sides, each returning too quickly to give Hammie any respite.

"It's only fitting, really," Charlie taunted, "I sunk the ship, I might as well sink the shipwright! Hey, there's a song in that somewhere!"

_Damn- _**SLAM! **Hammie's arm lunged out again, unable to pick a direction, but still managed to grab a missile as it dissipated into harmless water. _it- _**SLAM!** As another missile knocked him in the shoulder and shot downward, Hammie kicked up and caught the second water missile on the nose, destroying it as well. _I'm-_**SLAM!** His other arm reached out and grabbed the third missile, this time catching hold of Charlie, stopping the spinning in its tracks. _CAPTAIN! _Grappling Charlie by the arms even as the fishman still shot forward, Hammie jerked and forced Charlie's trajectory down. _Let's see how you like ramming into the dirt!_

The ocean floor rapidly grew closer, but Charlie would have none of it, "Hey! Free rides are for the ladies only!" Charlie spun as fast he could, Hammie spinning with him and holding on for dear life. Faster and faster until he was a self-contained miniature whirlpool. Finally, Hammie's grip failed and the human was hurled across the bay. Barely righting himself in time to slide on the ocean dirt, Charlie grimaced as he watched Hammie still hurtling off in the distance. Charlie kicked the dirt in annoyance, "Great, now I have to go get him. This is becoming less than entertaining. I better find a way to finish him off soon."

Hammie wished he could just right himself mid-trajectory like the fishman. Instead, his body rushed through the water, until finally colliding with the ground. This impact stung a lot more than the others, and at first Hammie figured the bruises were finally starting to pile up and hurt. When he looked around, he found himself in the middle of a sunken ship, along with the him-shaped hole he entered through. The wreck was barely recognizable in its current state, but a quick glance at the splintered stump where a mast should be, Hammie realized this was his own ship, or at least the marine's ship he'd temporarily commandeered. Only a moment remained until Charlie would arrive and the fight would continue, but that was all Hammie needed. _This… this I can work with… _Hammie picked up a nearby broken trapdoor and quickly got into position.

"Come on, I know you're around here somewhere," Charlie scanned the area for his prey, "I must've thrown him farther than I thought." The fishman finally came across the shipwreck with a fresh sunroof. "Either he's hiding inside or he's finally dead." That's when Charlie noticed the human crawling out of one of the bottom holes in the ship, climbing up the outside hull. "Well, he's doing a pretty poor job of either. So let's fix that." Charlie started spinning as a watery vortex formed behind him. _My strongest attack. I can't turn at all unlike my other attacks, so I've got to make this count. With this one, I'll split him in two and tear through that boat like a bullet through butter, and the best part is in his sorry state he'll never see it coming._ _Let's see how well you can hold your breath with only half of each lung._ **"Fishman Karate:"** Charlie launched himself with the giant whirlpool trailing behind him, **"Magnum Torpedo!" **_Even if he manages to dodge, at this angle he'll just get buried alive by the ship's debris._

Only meters away, Hammie suddenly pushed himself upward, just in the nick of time as Charlie crashed into the boat with a muted **thoomp** instead of a loud crash. The shockwave from the impact sent Hammie flying, though not as far as last time. He immediately turned towards the boat, and Charlie's silhouette gradually appeared.

When the dust finally settled, Hammie saw Charlie's flailing body, but only his body, as his head was now stuck in the barrel of a sunken cannon.

_Worked like a charm. If he had seen me in front of an actual porthole he might not have taken the bait. With the trapdoor to cover it though, he was none the wiser. _Hammie smiled and admired his handiwork. _Can't help but think I'm forgetting something though… Oh, that's right. AIR! _Hammie frantically swam towards the surface, but something in the back of his mind nagged at him. Turning around, he saw that the fishman's body, still stuck in the cannon, had gone his better judgment, Hammie started to speculate about the situation.

_Fishman = fish + man = gills + lungs. Obviously, they use lungs to breathe above the surface and their gills underwater. His gills are on his neck. His neck is currently stuck in a thick iron cannon._ Hammie's wheels suddenly clicked. _He's suffocating down there!_ Hammie's own lungs screamed in protest, but once again ignoring his immense desire to not drown, Hammie swam back down to the shipwreck. Fortunately, his body, in desperation to get above ground, was working his adrenaline in overdrive. Hammie swam through the porthole, pushed the cannon out of the ship, and then swam back towards shore, dragging the cannon and Charlie with him.

Hammie erupted from the water, inhaling all the air his lungs could possibly hold for the third and probably not last time that day. All the pain and exhaustion finally hit him at once and he collapsed on the beach, the water still licking his feet. Pulling Charlie and his new headgear up as well, Hammie took a look inside the barrel of the cannon. "Please tell me you're breathing, because there are so very many reasons I don't want to give you CPR."

Hammie couldn't even see anything inside the cannon it was so dark, but a voice equally as exasperated as him echoed through the cannon. "Why…" Charlie spoke too soon, needing a bit more oxygen than the cramped cannon would allow, "What would possess you to save me?"

Satisfied with the cannon's response, Hammie lie back on the beach next to Charlie, finally catching his breath, "Call me old-fashioned, but from where I come from, when you see someone drowning, the polite thing to do is to NOT let them drown."

The cannon was silent for a moment. "No, really. I just tried to kill you in the most hilarious (to me at least) way possible. What makes you think I won't just kill you once I get up and out of this thing?"

"You didn't do a very good job of that the first time. Why should I believe you'll do better next time?" replied Hammie nonchalantly.

The cannon was silent again, "Touché. You humans are weird."

"Hey, I'm not the one trying to kill their old boss because you disagree with his lifestyle choice."

"Are you serious? Do you even know anything about Brody or _that girl_ or anything about Jaggerjaw?" said Charlie, offended.

"Look, I get the whole interspecies thing is kind of weird. Not sure I could go for that kind of thing myself, but really, what's the harm in it as long as they're both happy?"

"As if we'd get so worked up over a little forbidden romance!" Charlie shouted, quickly regretting it since he too was trying to breathe normally again.

"Then what?" asked Hammie.

"That girl is a **murderer!**"

* * *

The water was about knee deep as Mambo cranked a valve on the wall until finally the water calmed down. "Dat should do it," the jellyfishman resumed organizing medical instruments and pharmaceutical bottles as Doc sat paralyzed from the neck down in a chair, "This is one of the few rooms that can stop the water flow, since there are sensitive equipment and sanitation concerns."

"Not that I'm complaining, but weren't you going to let me drown?"

"The line between killing and letting someone die is so blurry sometimes, I often have trouble seeing where it is," said Mambo, his speech becoming more articulate as he relaxed, "The more I think about it, you might have a slight chance to escape at some point, though I honestly can't fathom how. If you can escape in a way that doesn't get me in Captain Brody's chains, then I'm sure not going to stop you. If one of the others should come along, I'll just say I couldn't have the infirmary flood for the moment, and you'll still be paralyzed so I won't be under suspicion," Mambo turned to his captive, "Besides, you said you wanted to know our story, and it's a long one."

Doc slightly shrugged, not really able to do anything else at the moment, "I'm all ears."

Mambo went over to a collection of small photographs, picked one up with a tendril, and held it in front of Doc's face, "Look at this picture."

Doc studied it carefully. It was a group shot of a group of fishmen and humans. He could recognize a much younger Mambo and Brody. There was also the tuna fishman from the bar, a swordfishman, a few boys who Doc thought he recognized as the bartender and some members of the crowd from earlier, and others. In the center of the group were two girls, one a smiling fishwoman, the other a flat-chested human girl with a cigarette in her mouth and wearing a leather jacket. The fishwoman was smiling for the camera and held the human girl in a headlock as the human angrily struggled. All in all, the whole shot seemed like a friendly gathering, and the two girls seemed to horse around like sisters. Looking closer, Doc recognized the angry human girl, "Is… is that Wendy?"

"Yeah, that's her back in the day. Real troublemaker that one. Now see the girl in the middle?" The tendril pointed to the older fishwoman holding Wendy for the picture. She actually had very few "unique" physical traits for a fishwoman, slightly discolored skin, gills, webbed hands, and lips that were slightly thicker than average, but on the whole a very attractive young woman who could probably have passed for human if she wanted to.

Doc looked over the fishwoman's fit figure, large chest, and casual clothing. She had toned muscles and the type of universally friendly smile that could make anyone feel better about their day. "Doesn't look half-bad for a fish."

"That's Linda, a lungfish fishwoman. She didn't have a rank among the Tiburones Gemelos, but everyone looked up to and respected her. She was the heart and soul of the entire crew, and she's at the center of our story.

"We first came to this island five years ago. Brody was still captain back then, obviously, but he never did anything without Linda. Brody would simultaneously try to let everyone speak their mind, then become aggressive and combative over his opinions and orders, so there were a lot of fights between crew members, and even some of the humans. Linda, however, seemed to always know the right words to say to get everyone to calm down, and everyone loved her."

Doc looked over the picture again, "Wendy sure doesn't seem to feel that way here."

"She may not look it now, but back when we first arrived, Wendy was the rowdiest delinquent you'd ever seen, and the least trustful of all the humans. She would always cause trouble, turn around and blame us. More than once she unsuccessfully tried to get the town to riot against us."

It was more difficult for Doc to recognize the Wendy he'd met in person and the Wendy from Mambo's story and picture as the same, "That really doesn't seem like the girl I met."

"She's changed a lot. Mostly thanks to Linda. Of all the humans, Wendy was her personal pet project. Linda always treated her like a little sister. She wanted to be Wendy's best friend and wouldn't take no for an answer. When Linda wasn't dropping by her place unannounced with cookies and tea, she was throwing away Wendy's cigarettes and scolding her. Eventually, Wendy gave up, and the two became nearly inseparable," said Mambo with nostalgia.

"All right, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, because there's no way that's the whole story."

Mambo sighed, "Correct. About two years ago, a visitor came to the island. A doctor in a coat not unlike yours, except black."

"A doctor in a black coat?" The image those words conjured in Doc's mind was familiar if hazy.

"His name was Dr. Wilhelm Cancer," Mambo explained.

"THE Dr. Cancer?" The name was definitely familiar to Doc, and pretty much anyone who learned any medical history in their lifetime.

"Yes. He was a very intimidating man, and his name didn't help. As you know, it was his ancestor that discovered the disease of his namesake and it's his family line that advances the most research towards possible treatments and cures."

"So what was a famous doctor doing on a boondock island like this one?" Doc asked.

"He said he was traveling the world on sabbatical, furthering his research by studying and treating patients around the world. He never smiled or showed much emotion, but he was nonetheless very charismatic, and by the end of the week was on a first-name basis with everyone, human or fishman. When he wasn't seeing patients, he would often invite me personally over for academic discussions. He taught me more than any medical textbook ever could. Then, only a few days after he left, the first symptoms started to appear…" Suddenly, there was hesitation in Mambo's voice.

"The plague, right?"

The jellyfishman looked up in surprise, "How did you…?"

"It's kind of obvious. The ghost town village. The boarded up houses. The quarantined, burned-out building. The absence of anyone too young or too old to be able to survive such a thing. Once you recognize the symptoms the cause becomes apparent."

"I suppose so,"

"So what was it? Smallpox? Polio? Bubonic?" guessed Doc.

"Worse," Mambo said darkly as he sat down in another chair, "The disease itself was unidentifiable, as symptoms differed greatly from person to person. One person would cough until blood filled their lungs. Another would grow boils and sores all over his body. Some just went mad. Conventional treatments were useless. The only reason I was able to save anyone was because of what the Doctor had taught me in our short time. It almost seemed as if minor ailments that the townsfolk had were increased tenfold, until even the slightest cold became a lethal supervirus. So many humans died in my care… So many begged for death until I put them out of their misery… And for the majority at least, I was powerless to save them..." Mambo's voice started to break.

"Nearly the entire human village was out of commission, but none of the fishmen would come close to the village, save myself and Linda, who tried to treat everyone and make everyone comfortable, with little success. Brody reluctantly helped as well, usually running errands and securing supplies for us."

"Let me guess, to protect Wendy?"

"No, actually," Mambo replied, much to Doc's confusion, "Oh, sure, Brody did his best to try and save anyone he could, but the real reason he was there was to look after Linda. The two were… well, let's just say Linda was a lot closer to Brody than she was to everyone else. Brody and Wendy, on the other hand, were always at each other's throats. Brody always preached peace with humans, but he had a temper that spoke otherwise.

"Wendy was one of the last people in the village to develop symptoms. Her lungs had developed tumors and were failing. Without an organ donor, she would have been dead in less than a week. On top of that, our blood supply was running dangerously low and many patients needed transfusions to survive. One night, Linda came to me and told me she was starting to show symptoms. She had looked fine up until that very moment, but she then asked me to do the impossible," Mambo hesitate again, the words coming more difficultly than before, "She wanted me to... end her pain," the jellyfishman trembled as he spoke, "It turned out despite their racial differences, Linda and Wendy were compatible donor matches. And Wendy would not survive long enough for Linda to pass on naturally.

"By that point, I had stopped euthanizing patients because I just couldn't do it anymore, no matter how much pain they were in. And of all people, Linda… I outright refused. There was too much death already. I couldn't do it anymore.

"That night, Brody and myself were working in the clinic which used to be the humans' town hall, when we heard a scream from the operating room…"

* * *

_Brody burst open the door in fear with Mambo close behind…_

_Wendy was kneeling over the operating table, uncontrollably bawling. Lying on the table was a still body…_

"_No!" Brody rushed forward, shoving Wendy out of the way, and put his head to her chest. "She's still breathing! Quick, Mambo, we can save her!"_

_Mambo's eyes were fixated elsewhere at Linda's limp, open palm, holding a single empty syringe. Brody, following Mambo's gaze, cringed in horror. "What is that? Medicine?"_

_The jellyfishman carefully picked up the syringe, praying his intuition to be wrong, and read the label. "It's the venom I used for the dying patients… to… end their pain… I swear I thought I destroyed the last batch."_

"_No… No! Come on, there has to be an antidote… Something!" Brody's cries were silenced by Mambo somberly shaking his head._

"_She took a whole dose. There's nothing we can do. She'll be gone in a few minutes, tops."_

"_Bro.. dy…" Both turned to see Linda's eyes weakly open as she smiled. Brody desperately leaned as close as he could, tears streaming down his face. Linda whispered something to Brody, exactly what Mambo couldn't make out from where he was. She leaned up to kiss Brody on the cheek, and then the light faded from her eyes, her smile never fading._

_Brody roared in rage. Wendy lie on the floor in shock. Mambo could only stand helplessly and watch the pain, suffering, and death…_

_What must have been minutes of silence seemed like eternity, no one in the room moving a muscle. Finally, Brody stood up. "You know what she would have wanted…" He didn't say another word as he walked out of the room._

* * *

"I performed the surgery as Linda willed it. Wendy received both of Linda's lungs, and under careful supervision eventually made a full recovery, at least physically. Her blood even refilled our plasma supply and allowed a lot of humans to live through the plague. Everyone assumed she was just the first of many fishmen to be taken by the sickness. No one would be the same psychologically. Wendy's delinquent personality suddenly did a 180 and she became bright, friendly, and even stopped smoking. Brody started spending most of his time with Wendy without offering an explanation.

"Eventually, the epidemic was brought under control when the source was identified. Tell me, what do you know of the Devil Fruits?"

Doc's eyes widened as he realized the implications, "You don't mean…"

"The doctor in black who befriended us had unleashed this on us before he left. One of the patients with open sores went delirious and jumped into the ocean. When we found him, the majority of his blisters were healed. Once the idea formed in my head to treat it like a Devil Fruit power, I started alternative treatments with seawater and what little bits of Kairoseki Seastone we had on the island. My treatments worked, and proved my hypothesis. It wasn't a viable option for every patient, mind you, but that fact alone saved many lives, and also helped us to contain and wipe out the disease," Mambo continued, "We burned down the town hall where the infected bodies were and doused the flames with ocean water. Eventually, the plague was gone, but our problems weren't over.

"When the cause of the plague was discovered, it was reasoned that none of the fishmen probably couldn't even get sick by this plague. I was living proof, since I'd been treating the sick from day one and never developed so much as a cough. Brody neither. However, this only left the fishmen wondering what really happened to Linda…"

* * *

"…and that's when we all started to put the pieces together," Charlie narrated, his voice still echoing inside the cannon he was stuck in, Hammie lying on his back right beside him, "Look at all the evidence! First of all, when she was still with us, Linda abhorred suicide above all else. Considered it a coward's way out. She would actually beat people up for even joking about offing themselves. Second, that human didn't exactly like Linda very much before then. She would have died without the donated organs, and many of her fellow humans would have died without the extra blood in the bank. Third, Brody and that human were acting really odd, spending a lot of time together, _**alone **_ever since Linda died. Fourth, when we wanted to hold a trial for the human and figure things out, Brody outright refused. Said we were all crazy for even thinking about it. We even agreed to stop any unnecessary interspecies activities so we wouldn't go through another incident like that again, except for Brody because he didn't want to leave her alone, never mind that before the plague, the two hated each other. He chose that human over Linda, over us, over everything we'd worked for!"

"You know something?" Hammie rolled his eyes and stood up, dusting the sand off his clothes, "I'm getting my strength back, and I'm getting really sick of you talking. So I'm just going to go now and catch up with the others."

"Damn it, weren't you even paying attention?" the cannon yelled at him.

"Much to my regret, yes."

"Here I thought since you saved me I could reason with you. Don't you see? All the evidence points to that human girl murdering one of our own, getting away with it scott-free, and to top it off, getting Linda's man as some kind of twisted trophy. I wouldn't be surprised if Brody was an accomplice to Linda's murder!" Charlie said indignantly.

"Reason with me? You just tried to kill me!" Hammie scoffed.

"You're the ones who raided our home! For all we know, you're a bunch of mercenaries and assassins hired by Brody or that girl!" Charlie shouted before realizing just how pointless it was trying to argue in his state, "Besides, it's pointless for you to go now anyway. By the time you get across the island, your friends will have drowned if they weren't killed by my comrades first."

Hammie turned towards the prone, cannon-headed Charlie, annoyed, "You know what the real difference between you and me is? It's not that you can breathe underwater. It's that I don't lose faith in my friends just because things look bad," For once the loud-mouthed fishman was silent as Hammie turned to walk away, "Oh, and one other thing," Hammie turned back and kicked the cannon as hard as he could, letting the whole thing echo as Charlie's body shook with the resonation before going limp. Hammie yelled into the barrel. **"I'M THE CAPTAIN!" **Satisfied but still irritated, Hammie started making his way back to the bay, muttering to himself,"I hate that guy…"

_To be continued…_

Author's Notes:

New chapter woo…

Btw, if you notice a character's accent has vanished, that's not by accident. With some characters it's because they speak more articulately in certain circumstances, but the main reason is while accents can add an interesting bit of personality, they're a pain to both read and write for an extended period of time, especially for example when said character has to give exposition and backstory.


	10. The Doctor, The First Mate, and The Ugly

"_In that case," Doc sighed, "Mind granting a dying man a last request?"_

"_If it be wit'in me power, sure."_

"_A cigar would be great, for starters," said Doc hopefully._

_Mambo shook his head. "Sorry, mon. I don't carry around dose toxic t'ings."_

"_It's okay. I have some in my left jacket pocket. It's just a little hard to reach them in my current state. Would you mind?" Doc grinned, "It's not like it'll set off a fire alarm or anything. The flood will put it out when it puts me out." Mambo sighed, reaching into the jacket pocket with one of his tendrils, pulling out a small cigar case and a lighter, obliging the Doc's request as he puffed the newly lit cigar. "Much-obliged." _

"_Is that all, then?" asked Mambo._

"_Well, I could use some conversation to pass my last few moments on this mortal coil," said Doc._

"_And what, praytell, should we talk about? The weather?"_

"_I'd like to know why I'm going to drown on a fishman barge on an island in the middle of nowhere. Even death row inmates know why they're going to be executed."_

_Mambo paused, "Very well, I suppose that's de least you deserve…" The jellyfishman sat across from Doc, just as the slowly rising water was becoming ankle deep._

* * *

Mambo breathed a sigh of relief, "Well, dat's da story of Jaggerjaw Island. About a week ago, da rest of da men's suspicions finally rose to a boiling point, and Brody was put on trial as a conspirator. He was granted 'leniency' in da form of exile along wit' Wendy. Dey patched togeder a raft and we t'ought we'd seen da last of dem."

"What about you?" Doc asked.

"Hm?"

"You said you were there that night too," Doc clarified, "Didn't you see what happened?"

Mambo shook his head sorrowfully, "Every night dat scene plays out in me mind, and every night da details are slightly different. Sometimes I see Linda take her own life, sometimes I see Wendy stab her wit' da needle, sometimes Brody, sometimes da final blow is me knife on da operating table. I just don't know what anymore."

"But Brody's your friend, right? And you still somehow suspect him knowing what you know?"

"I don't believe Brody or Wendy is capable of murder any more den I could believe Linda was capable of suicide. But it never mattered, I could never convince anyone of da same."

"I see…" Doc took a moment to process the information, "Well, this certainly has shed some light on the situation. Not sure if that'll affect how the others handle things, but I guess I better go let them know just in case."

"What do you mean?" Mambo looked up to see Doc standing up, dusting himself off and throwing his cigarette into the knee deep water, "You should be paralyzed from da neck down!" the jellyfishman exclaimed.

Doc scoffed, "Please, I take stronger stuff in my coffee. Though the medicinal herbs you helped me with definitely helped my body adjust more quickly," Doc fingered the hand-rolled cigar knowingly, "Sometimes a cigar is more than just a cigar, am I right?" Doc chuckled.

"No… no way," Mambo bolted upright, his tendrils all uncoiling, ready for a possible fight, "I told you, I can't let you leave, or else it'll be **my** head on the chopping block!"

"Yeah, that's not going to work out well for you," Doc explained calmly as he reached into the inside of his coat, unveiling a variety of pill bottles and syringes, "My specialization as a doctor is pharmaceuticals, and I can take them as well as dish them out." His fingers danced along the various bottles and syringes of multicolored liquids and tablets before selecting a particular bottle and holding it up, admiring its contents. Even as a fellow doctor, Mambo couldn't recognize anything in the Doc's visible stockpile. "My own personal little steroid cocktail. If you're worried about looking bad in front of your friends, I'll beat you up pretty good so they don't think twice."

"I'm sorry, but I can't betray me crew, even under these circumstances. It's not just a matter of punishment, but one of loyalty, and I can't let you leave dis room," Four of Mambo's tendrils lashed out behind him for the wheel that sealed off the room and began turning it, slowly filling the room with water again, "You say you're resistant to poisons and toxins, huh? I can believe that. I'll just have to give you a stronger dose!" Another eight tendrils lashed out at each of Doc's limbs, wrapping around them and pumping the jellyfishman's toxin into Doc at a microscopic level.

"Have it your way," Doc shrugged, popped one of the little yellow pills in his mouth, seemingly unaffected by all the toxins pumping into his system.

"What… what are you doing?" Mambo gasped. The human had taken enough tranquilizer to render a sea king comatose and was unaffected. Suddenly, Doc rushed forward, bursting through the tendrils with no problem. Before Mambo knew it, Doc's fist slammed into the fishman's gut, though it felt more like a cannon. "Urk!"

"This is the power of **Boost**," Doc calmly stated as the jellyfishman doubled over, his lungs rendered temporarily useless, "I'll spare you the details, but this stuff puts my adrenaline and metabolism into overdrive for a short time," Doc threw several more punches at the winded fishman, who offered no resistance, "Now my body will filter out any poisons faster than it could ever ingest them. Strictly personal use though. On any normal person this stuff would be an instant heart attack," Doc picked up Mambo and tossed him aside like a ragdoll.

Mambo propped himself up against the wall, a feeling of utter helplessness washing over him. His fishman constitution was no match for the Doc's drug-induced strength, and all of his toxins and medicines were currently useless. "You… you're mad! Playing wit' drugs and medicines in such a fashion!" Doc approached and Mambo recoiled, "No! Don't come near me!"

"Sorry, I tend to get a bit more aggressive on this stuff. Side effects and all. It was your own fault for blocking the door," Doc leaned over the cowering fishman, inspecting him over. Mambo could see the veins bulging in Doc's neck, wondering exactly what that stuff was doing to the human's body. Doc smiled and pat the jellyfishman on the head as he would any of his patients, "You should be fine. Just enough bruises that if any of your buddies start asking you questions, you can say you fought valiantly. Anyway, I better get going…" Doc gently shoved Mambo out of his path and approached the door.

"Wait! Who are you? I must know!" Mambo pleaded, embarrassed at his easy defeat.

"Just Doc will do," Doc replied.

"Wit' all respect, mon, it's silly for two doctors to call each other Doctor."

Doc paused for a moment, unsure of whether or not to oblige the jellyfishman's request. "Dr. Jonas Holiday," Mambo's eyes widened as he recognized that name the same way he recognized the name of Dr. Cancer, "That name never leaves this room. You don't want to know what happens when it starts getting tossed around." Mambo silently nodded.

"Now, to get out of here," Doc stood by the door and thoughtfully scratched his chin. Between the waist-high water in this room and the fully submerged hallway, the door wouldn't budge no matter how hard Doc pulled or pushed, "Damn, this is going to be harder than I thought."

* * *

"_Swordsman?" The fishman, in his anger, was now intrigued, "Do you have any skill?"_

"_Simply put, I'm the best." Preparing for the inevitable, Jude readied his blade._

"_I sincerely doubt that." Xiphias grasped the 3-foot scabbard around his nose. "But hopefully you're competent enough for at least a few minutes of distraction. I think I will take you up on your offer of entertainment." The swordfish fishman tossed away the scabbard, revealing a sharpened, 3-foot bone and cartilage blade. "En garde."_

"_And action!" Jude replied as both lunged from across the room to cross swords._

* * *

The two blades clashed and parried. The cartilage in Xiphias's 3-foot bladed nose was harder than steel, and yet somehow the slender (and still nearly naked) human in front of him parried it with nothing but a flimsy rapier and a smile. The main hall they dueled in was slowly filling with water, to the point where instead of the floor the two battled on top of floating tables and chairs.

Having been deflected once again, the two swordsmen leaped back to prepare their next moves. "**Swordfish Spear**!" Xiphias threw himself forward, his blade straight to pierce as if jousting. An attack that by all logic should snap the human's flimsy rapier in two.

In a clash, Xiphias missed his target, Jude's rapier blocking and diverting the attack just enough that Xiphias's blade thrust into the wall near inches from Jude's face. Not only did Jude parry the attack, he made it look easy, grinning the whole time without breaking a sweat. "Tell me, do you know _The Tragic History of Lovers_?"

Xiphias ignored the banter, "**Fishman Karate: Hundred Brick Chop**!" The fishman's arm swung around to pin the human between Xiphias's sword and hand, a variation of the basic Fishman Karate move Hundred Brick Fist, only where the latter would pulverize like a sledgehammer, this attack chopped with the force of a battle axe, and should have been able to cleave the thin human in two in a single swipe.

It never got the chance, however, as Jude quickly ducked under the blade and spun around Xiphias's opposite side, Xiphias hitting air, but Jude carving a good chunk out of the fishman's side as he literally danced past him. "_**Ballroom Slice!**_" Jude grinned wider as he took his stance several feet behind Xiphias, "It's a play about lovers from two feuding families that ends in the lovers' deaths," the actor continued as if he were lecturing a class.

Xiphias withdrew his blade from the wall and spun around to cut Jude, only to be parried again. "I'm surprised you don't know it. It's considered one of the great classics."

The main advantage to Xiphias's sword style unique to his particular breed of fishman was that he still had two free arms to attack with, so he brought both arms around this time, determined that the human would not escape his grasp again, "**Two Hundred Brick Chop!**"

Xiphias's two chops only connected with each other, however, as Jude flipped backward high into the air, the whole time calmly speaking, "In it, the main hero, one of the lovers, must duel the cousin of his true love, a much more experienced and vicious swordsman."

As Jude soared through the air, Xiphias saw his chance. Simultaneously shaking his head from side to side and nodding furiously, Xiphias's blade unleashed a series of multi-angled shockwaves at the still airborne Jude. "**Indecisive Cut**!" Even if the actor could somehow parry a few of the shockwaves, there was no way he could dodge them all in the air.

Or at least that's what Xiphias thought. "_**Aerial Ballet!**_" Jude smiled in delight as he not only furiously parried several of the shockwaves, he used their force to propel him out of the way of the others, not a single one of the attacks scratched him. "The lover wishes to make peace between the families so his love can flourish, but the cousin will have none of it."

Xiphias stared in disbelief, but still wasn't about to let this opportunity go to waste. After he made sure where Jude would land, he charge forward, his blade thrust forward and his arms ready to strike as well, "**Swordfish Spear**!" Xiphias was certain this time, certain that his opponent would not escape his strike. There was no more room to flip backwards, and he would catch him if the human tried to sidestep him.

Once again, Xiphias's attacks hit nothing as Jude fell to one knee just outside of Xiphias's range of attack, "_**Reverse Knight!**_" Jude thrust his sword into Xiphias hilt first, knocking the wind out of him. As the fishman doubled over, Jude somersaulted under his legs, jumping calmly to his feet. "Finally, in a stroke of luck and passion, the lover prevails over the experienced swordsman, killing him." Spinning around, Jude gave his opponent a quick stab in the back while he was getting his second wind, "_**Scoundrel's Strike!**_" Jude calmly "But this only drives a wedge between him and his lover, and more conflict ensues." Jude sauntered away as Xiphias slowly stood back up, now nursing several wounds in difficult-to-reach areas. "Unable to live without his one, true love, he commits suicide, just as his lover has resolved to forgive him."

"_**ENOUGH OF THIS**_!" Xiphias roared as his pupils turned into slits and his body started giving in to his bestial instincts and feral rage. Suddenly, the raging fishman started furiously spinning. Gone was Xiphias's calm demeanor, replaced by pure rage as Jude watched in interest. "**Spinning Schnoz-Saw!**" The spinning fishman had turned his nose-sword into a horizontal sawblade and launched forward.

With only the few narrow tables to walk on, there was no room to sidestep, so when Jude's back was against the wall, he was forced to somersault underneath the whirling blade and leap back to his feet on the other side, still grinning, "Not a fan of the classics I take it?"

But Xiphias's attack continued, and as he approached the wall, the spinning sawblade angled until it cut vertically along the wall, climbing it until it launched itself at Jude again, "**Spinning Air Schnoz-Saw!**"

Once again, Jude easily sidestepped the attack, but the spinning form gave no opening to counterattack. As Xiphias's saw landed, it destroyed the table, leaving Jude to leap to a different safe platform. "I'd be more careful if I were you. On an island like this, it's probably difficult to replace these fineries," Jude taunted. But Xiphias's attack continued, churning the water and seeking out no longer Jude, but every would-be safe platform in the still-rising waters until the actor was forced to swan dive deep underwater, sword in hand.

Only then did Xiphias cease his attack, and his rage seemed to have calmed down as well, "Much better. Duels between swordsmen shouldn't have so much annoying babble. Now, where were we?" Xiphias launched himself forward, this time taking his time with his attacks. He wasn't about to allow the human to exploit any openings again. What he thought would still be a quick decapitation turned out to be another block as Jude barely brought up his sword in time to block. "You can still parry even underwater? Impressive. But we fishmen still rule the waters."

Both of Xiphias's arms grasped seemingly empty water, but suddenly there were 3-foot long swirling currents in the form of underwater blades, "**Fishman Karate: Ocean Sword**!" Xiphias now wielded three swords to Jude's one. The swordfishman launches a barrage of swipes and cuts. Much to Jude's surprise, whenever he tried to block the two swords of water, they passed right by his blade and cut deep into his body. Relying only on underwater acrobatic maneuvers, Jude flipped and dodged as many strikes as he could, but still received several deep cuts. Much to Xiphias's surprise, so did he, as when he couldn't physically affect the water sword strikes, Jude would use the opportunity to give Xiphias several small cuts.

Tired of the exchange of blows that was far less one-sided than Xiphias would have liked, the fishman adopted a different stance, "**Fishman Santoryuu: Trident Strike**!" Holding all three blades parallel and pointed in Jude's direction, Jude thought that the fishman would launch himself again and prepared to swim out of the way. Much to his surprise, it wasn't the fishman, but a trident-shaped concentration of water that was launched at Jude, catching him just enough guard to pin him to the wall. It was all Jude could do to parry the attack just enough that the trident's points missed his vitals. The water around him started to ooze red as his many wounds started to drain blood in the water.

Xiphias remained still in the center of the water, looking at the human in disgust, "You remind me too much of Charlie, but I will make certain that I will be rid of at least one of you today." Spinning both of the water blades around in opposite circles, Xiphias created a whirlpool that grew as he spun faster, threatening to engulf and swallow the wounded human, "**Fishman Santoryuu: Sharktooth Vortex!**" Try as he might, there was nothing in reach for Jude to grab onto even if he had the strength. He tried swimming away, but to no avail. "There's no escape! **Fishman Santoryuu: Three Thousand Underwater Worlds!**" Jude was engulfed in the center of the vortex taking the full brunt, as it felt like thousands of sharp teeth rended his flesh, until everything finally went dark.

Xiphias eyed the now unmoving human body in the water, and slightly bowed, "You may have been human, and a very annoying one at that, but your swordsmanship, while strange, was admirable. I will give you the honor of a warrior's death."

* * *

_A loud clang got both of their attention, as the large steel door had swung shut. Ignoring Brody, Michael leaped up to the door and tugged as hard as he could, only to find a thick layer of slime covering the door making it impossible to budge. Even with both feet on the door and pulling, the door wouldn't move. Not only that, but the whatever the slime was kept Michael stuck as well._

"_I tried to warn you," said an exasperated Brody._

"_It ain't budgin'! What the bloody hell is this stuff? It's like someone ate a tub o' super glue and crapped it on the door!" Michael still pulled, hoping to at least get his limbs off the door. _

"_That's right," the snail-woman said scowling, "I'm the nautilus sea snail fishwoman Natalie, engineer, cartographer, and quartermaster for the Tiburones Gemelos._

_Michael stared at Natalie for a few seconds in silence, blinking his eyes and shaking his head as if that would somehow wake him from his predicament before shouting, "WHAT IN THE NINE BLOODY HELLS IS THAT THING?"_

_Suddenly, Natalie erupted in anger, screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs, "I'M UGLY, AM I? WHEN I'M DONE WITH YOU, YOU'LL BE NOTHING BUT A BLOOD-SMEARED CRAP-STAIN ON THE WALL! THEN WE'LL SEE WHO'S UGLY!"_

* * *

The door burst off its hinges into the hallway, shattering from the force of the impact and freeing Michael from his binds, "There we go, Mikey's back on his feet again!" Just in time too, as the sea snail woman's entire shell raced toward him for another body slam.

Michael jumped backward just as the giant shell attached to the berserking woman crashed into the floor where he stood. Grinning, Michael drew both of his giant **Boomers**. "Time to really get this party started, with a big, loud BOOM!" Pointing both guns at the sea snail at point blank range, just how Michael liked it, he pulled the trigger, bracing for the recoil from the explosions and was rewarded with…

_**splooooot… **_as a black, inky goo oozed out of both gun barrels unceremoniously.

"That's not a boom…" Michael whimpered as Natalie's shell crashed into him knocking him through the hallway like a ragdoll.

"I hope you weren't hoping for forgiveness, you pathetic human worm, because there won't be any for you!" Natalie kept her crushing attacks up, wielding her own giant shell like an oversized morningstar.

"Don't worry, I got no reason to be apologizin' to monstrous sea slugs," Michael retorted without missing a beat, bruised, but unphased even by the wet gunpowder fiasco that disabled both of his weapons. It seemed really obvious now, but he vowed next time to remember to waterproof both pistols before going swimming.

"HRAAGH!" Natalie's rage peaked again and twisted her own body to launch her giant shell straight through the hallway, leaving little room to dodge. A little room was just enough for Michael, however, as he leaped up over the hurtling attack and swung a Boomer down, colliding it with Natalie's face.

"Jus' cause me powder's wet don't mean I'm defenseless!" Michael grinned and twirled his guns-rendered-clubs.

"We'll see about that!" Natalie paused hurling herself as a weapon and extended two open palms. "**Grease Slime**!" Suddenly, the slime covering her body quickly gathered onto her arms and spewed at Michael like a fire hose.

"What? Yer pukin' on me now?" Michael brought up both Boomers to block with, but that didn't stop the stuff from getting on his hands and feet.

"It may not be the most attractive feature in the world, but it's a versatile once, since I can control its consistency," Natalie grinned maliciously as Michael's Boomers slipped out of his hands and slid several feet away. Michael tried to go after him, but his feet were stuck in a puddle in the stuff, as he slipped and fell like a cartoon on a banana peel. Just standing up and walking was a challenge now.

"**Glue Slime**!" Just as Michael got the hand of standing up without any support, a second wave of slime hit his feet. The good news was he wasn't slipping around anymore. The bad news was that he was stuck to the floor in the same stuff that covered the door earlier. Natalie also threw some of the stuff at Michael's guns so they were out of the picture for now.

"Well doesn't that just bugger all?" Michael grimaced, "Not much I can do without me Boomers."

Her prey immobilized, Natalie smiled sadistically and threw herself in for another strike. At the last second, Michael bent backwards, until his hands almost touched the floor, effectively limboing under the giant shell as it rocketed past him. His hands useless in the slime that covered them, Michael thrust his elbow up, striking Natalie right in the chest. "Course that don't mean I'm completely helpless," Michael grinned.

"You… bastard…" Natalie clutched her chest in pain, the attack having hit her one of her more tender areas.

"Hey, all's fair in love, war, and ugly monster-slayin'," Michael snickered.

"DON'T CALL ME UGLY!" Natalie retracted into her shell, which began spinning wildly. This time the shell launched itself spinning vertically like a giant tire, threatening to steamroll Michael into a human pancake.

Michael braced himself. Even if this was going to work, it would still hurt like hell. As Natalie's giant shell slammed into him head-on, Michael grabbed it and held on for dear life as the force ripped him from the sticky slime. Only when Natalie stopped was Michael flung crashing into a wall. He dusted himself up as he stood up, shaking off the sting and getting ready for the rest of the fight. "Thanks for the lift, Ugly!"

Natalie fumed, her blue-green skin steaming into a bright red hue, "That's it! Time to pull out the big guns!" she screamed.

"Hey, that's not fair! Ye already robbed me of MY big guns," Michael complained.

"Well, tough, because we have at least one thing in common, and that's that I can fight dirty too!"

Michael winced. "Ew… I really don't want to have anything in common with something like you."

Natalie retracted into her shell again, only this time when she emerged she pulled out a string of several large, spiked, iron plates and quickly covered the length of her circular shell. Two more iron plates with giant spikes latched onto the sides of her shell, effectively turning her giant, bludgeoning, tire-esque shell into a spiked wheel of death, "My personal specially-designed **Nautilus Shell Battle Armor**!"

"Looks like ye got a lot o' junk in the trunk," Michael joked, even as the spiked shell started rapidly spinning, making a high-pitched whining sound not unlike a chainsaw. "Uh-oh," with the iron plates now adding to the shell's width as well as killing power, there was no longer any room in the narrow hallway to dodge the berserking Natalie, and the spikes themselves made trying to grab and ride the shell just as dangerous. Michael quickly tried a nearby door, but found with his greased hands he couldn't even grasp a doorknob long enough to open it.

"Well, looks like I'll be forced to use me greatest technique!" Michael braced his feet and then bolted off in the other direction as fast as he could, "**Running the Hell Away**!"

Natalie launcher her augmented shell through the hallway, grinding up the floor, ceiling, and even the walls as she did so. Michael didn't even bother looking behind him less he slow down and get pulverized. The whirring and grinding of metal against the rest of the building was enough motivation to run faster, but those sounds were soon joined by another foreboding noise, this one in front.

Suddenly, the double doors at the end of the hall burst open and a wall of water rushed down the hallway. With only the slightest instant for Michael to comprehend just how screwed he was, the flood hit first, thrusting him off his feet and back into the pursuing death machine, "Now there's no escape!" echoed Natalie's voice, barely audible between the roaring water and grinding spikes, "**Bloody Undertow**!" Natalie's arms reached out of their shell and grabbed Michael by the wrist, pinning him to the front of the shell so the dull spikes dug into his back. Natalie suddenly reversed the direction of her spin, moving backwards with the water, as Michael was run over countless times until his world was a blur of bone-cracking pain.

Natalie, Michael, and the flood burst back into the engineering room, the flood filling the room but still not affecting the various waterproofed machinery. Still holding onto the bleeding human, Natalie slammed into the floor, Michael first, pinning him to the bottom of the submerged room. "What's the matter, human? Got nothing else to say? We'll see how ugly I am compared to a bloated human corpse!"

Just when Michael was trying to decide whether drowning or being slowly crushed to death was preferable, an unseen force slammed into Natalie's side, tackling her away from Michael. Obstructing the snail woman from her prey was a now unchained great white shark fishman.

Still prone on the other side of the room, Natalie's eyestalks whipped around in surprise to see Brody staring back. "W-When did you get free?"

"We fishmen are stronger in water. Remember?" Brody broke apart the one remaining shackle on his left arm effortlessly.

Natalie righted herself and her eyes narrowed in anger, "Get out of the way, Brody, or else I'll take you down first."

Brody cracked his neck unobligingly, "That ain't happening, Nattie."

"How dare you!" Natalie's rage peaked again as she charged forward through the water, "Only Linda's allowed to use that name!" Natalie brought her shell down on Brody, only to smash the floor on his left as Brody took his stance, "That is until you and your human pet killed her!" Grabbing a nearby pipe fixture, Natalie swung around to try and sideswipe Brody with her spiked shell, but somehow overshot and whiffed above Brody's head. Despite this, Brody didn't dodge or move from Natalie's path.

"That ain't how it happened, Nattie!" Instead, his arms moved with each attack, directing the underwater currents to divert Natalie's shell just enough so that Brody and Michael were safe from her attacks.

At this point, Natalie was just attacking blindly, venting her rage, but Brody still had his hands full making sure her spiked shell strikes could never connect with her target. "LIAR!"

* * *

_A teenage Natalie sobbed in her room, trembling as she fingered the dagger in her hands. "It's pointless to try… I should just give up now… No one could possibly miss me… No one could possibly love me…" Raising the dagger to her chest, Natalie shut her eyes and plunged the dagger into her broken heart…_

_Or she would have if a very strange and sudden breeze hadn't hurled the dagger from her hands into the wall. "Just WHAT do you think you're doing?" Natalie tearfully and fearfully whipped her eyestalks around to see Linda, in Natalie's eyes a much more beautiful and deserving woman than herself. Where usually Linda had a look of joy and kindness this time she glared with anger._

"_Linda… I… I…" Natalie whimpered. Linda stomped forward and slapped the teenage girl as hard as she could. Natalie was rendered speechless._

"_Don't you EVER do something like that again!" Linda's face instantly transformed from anger to sadness, "You don't think I'd miss you? That Brody and everyone would miss you? Do you have ANY idea how much pain everyone would all go through if you left us?" Natalie was silent, not that she could probably breathe anyway with Linda wrapping her arms around her and squeezing every bit of oxygen out of her._

"_I'm… I'm sorry…" Natalie whimpered, "It was Jonny… He… He called me ugly…" It sounded much more dramatic of an incident in her head._

"_I heard. Don't listen to him, sweetie… Jonny's stupid and has lousy taste in women," Natalie was still hysterical, but Linda had at least calmed down enough to start mothering the poor girl, "Don't worry, you can do better," Natalie could only sob and whimper unintelligibly, "Shh… I'm here for you, Nattie."_

* * *

Natalie's near blind rage continued, her attacks speeding up, and a couple times Brody was clipped by the giant spiked shell, "You took her from me! Linda was never even sick, was she? That was just some story you fed Mambo so you could justify it!" Natalie retracted back into her shell and started spinning again, the water churning as she did so.

"She took her own life! I tried to save her, but it was too late!" She charged at Brody, and once again Brody formed his own currents to shoot Natalie above him.

"No!" This time Natalie was ready as she instantly broke her spin and flung her shell down, knocking Brody square on the head before he could redirect the currents.

"You're forcing my hand, Nattie. **Fishman Karate**…" Without being able to just redirect the attack, Brody punched straight up into the oncoming attack, "**Hundred Brick Fist**!" Despite direct contact, Brody's arm was just crushed back down by the weight of Natalie's shell.

"If she really did kill herself, why didn't she write out a will? Why wouldn't she even say goodbye?" Natalie reversed once more, her shell twirling around her and hitting Brody from below like an oversized uppercut, knocking Brody into the open waters.

"**I don't know!"** It was Brody's turn to explode in anger, "Maybe she was afraid someone would stop her. Maybe it was too painful for her to say goodbye. Maybe she just wanted to give Wendy and the other sick people a fighting chance as soon as possible! Maybe she wrote a will but it was lost in the fire! I don't know, I'll never know, and that kills me every night! But one thing's for certain! I never betrayed anyone, and neither did Wendy!"

"LIAR! TRAITOR!" Natalie screamed as spun her shell again, lunging at Brody.

"**Fishman Karate…**" Instead of trying to swim out of the way, Brody met the attack head on again, this time thrusting both fists, "**Two Hundred Brick Fist**!" Each fist punched opposite sides of Natalie's shell instead of head-on, and this time Brody held, physics still determining who would prevail between Natalie's shell and Brody's fists. Brody pushed harder, and suddenly the armor started to loudly crack before shattering completely, leaving Natalie without her prized battle armor.

"My armor-!" Natalie was momentarily shocked, and that was all the opening Brody needed.

The shark fishman spun vertically, bringing his outstretched leg full circle down onto the now more vulnerable shell, "**Flaming Ax Kick**!" Brody kicked Natalie back down to the bottom of the flooded room as she burst through to the floor below. Brody quickly swam after her, getting ready to finish this fight.

Arm outstretched, ready to strike, Brody dashed downward after Natalie, who was still too stunned to react in time, "**Exploding Palm**-" Brody stopped, his open palm only inches from Natalie's flinching face, hesitating.

"What's stopping you now? Why not just kill me like you did Linda?" Natalie asked, confused and exasperated.

"I can't… I can't hurt you," Brody shook as he spoke, "Any of you," His arm fell back to his side as Brody lost his battle stance, "No matter what happens, the crew is my family, and you might as well be my sister."

"And that's why the second you got a chance you got a new crew to attack us? Is that how you treat family? You prefer THAT kind of company to us?" Natalie spat in disgust.

"Michael?" Brody calmly replied, "I hate that shmuck. Of all the people on this island, fishmen and humans alike, he's the guy I'd mind seeing dead the least. Well, except maybe for that creepy crab guy."

"If that's so, then let me by and I'll finish off that human," Natalie demanded.

Brody shook his head, "Nattie, the worst mistake you could make in your life is to take someone's life, whether they're human or fishman. It's one thing if you just don't like them, but take it from someone who's had to take a life before. It's one of the worst feelings in the world, and it's something that changes you and sticks with you for the rest of your life, something you can never truly atone for. I won't let you make that mistake, Nattie."

"Then you're too late," she quietly replied.

Brody quickly turned to see Michael slowly sinking into this floor from the room above. Even if he still had any life in him, the entire ship was now completely submerged, with no possible air to revive him.

_To be continued…._

Author's Notes:

Alternate chapter name: "Oh crap"

Like the reviews, glad to see people are enjoying the story. Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated.


	11. The Chef

_Suddenly, a flash of light wedged itself between Wendy's arms and Torteau's claws. An intense pain seared the inside of Torteau's claws, and a great pressure threw the two apart. Before either could process what had happened, a lone man stood perfectly still between the two, katana unsheathed and his long braid just now settling from the movement of the attack, glaring at Torteau. _

"_T-Takashi?" Wendy stammered in disbelief._

_Takashi's focus remained on the crab fishman, "Your opponent will be me."_

_Torteau rubbed his claws together in pain, but slowly his annoyed scowl morphed into an anticipating smile. "On the other hand, a human who works in the kitchen must have a truly unique flavor," Torteau menacingly clapped his pincers together, "I think you will be the appetizer."_

* * *

The crab fishman Torteau and the swordsman Takashi stared each other down along the shoreline, Wendy cowering behind the latter, still reeling from her second near-brush with death for the day, and not likely her last.

"Takashi… we didn't think you'd come. Thank you," she was trembling, partially from Torteau himself, partially out of shame for her weakness, when the situation suddenly rushed back into her mind, "Takashi! Listen, we don't have much time! Hammie and the rest are on that ship, and if we don't get to them soon and help them, they'll all-!"

"Irrelevant," Takashi's eyes never left his opponent, and his body remained tensed to strike.

"Right. They'll all irrelevant," Wendy repeated aloud before realizing what she said, "Wait, what?"

"What happens to the others, whether they live or die, it is none of my concern," Takashi emotionlessly explained.

"W-what? But then why are you saving me?"

"I'm not. Your fate is none of my concern either. However, since you probably value your own life, I strongly suggest keeping your distance. My blades do not distinguish between friend and foe," the swordsman warned.

"Uweeheehee… Perhaps you share my interest in unique dishes?" Torteau grinned widely, "If you're interested, I'm willing to share my supper with a fellow connoisseur. If you have _**other**_ interests with the girl, I can give you some time with her first, if you'd prefer. How wonderfully perverse for a human," Torteau clapped his pincers together in excitement.

"Silence!" Takashi suddenly bellowed, "You, someone who has chosen the sacred profession of the kitchen, have committed three grave sins today!" he shouted, deeply offended.

"What is this nonsense?" Torteau asked annoyed.

With his free hand, Takashi raised one finger in the air, "First, you conspired to prepare and eat prey intelligent enough to protest its demise and consumption!"

"I'm 'prey?' Th-that's how you're phrasing me?" Wendy weeped in confusion.

Takashi raised a second finger, counting off, "Second, you inflicted unnecessary pain on the prey you planned to prepare for yourself. No meal should be flavored with fear or despair." Both Wendy and Torteau stood mouths open in shock.

"And finally, the most heinous of crimes for a chef to commit," Takashi raised a third finger and glared menacingly at the crab fishman, "You didn't wash your hands _**or **_your tools before cooking!"

Wendy twitched, "What… what kind of person thinks that way?"

"You have very strange morals," Torteau observed.

"You will pay for these sins with your life, and I will carry out the sentence!" Takashi reached into the bundle on his back and drew two more swords in addition to the one that was already pointed at Torteau. He held both swords opposite each other in the same hand as he took a different stance, "Three sins, three swords. That should be sufficient."

Torteau sighed, "And they call me crazy and amoral. Oh well, I suppose your state of sanity should not affect your flavor too much," His grin returned as he faced the swordsman, "Because you see, you are unfortunate enough to challenge me, and-"

"**Imokiri**!" Takashi quickly swung one sword in an upward arc, sending a shockwave at Torteau who suddenly had to bring both his pincers up to block his face, the one shockwave seeming to strike his armor dozens of times. Torteau himself was seemingly unhurt from the attack, but a boulder behind him quickly collapsed into perfectly cubed pieces.

"Ah!" Torteau cried indignantly, "That was uncalled for!"

"Did you miss the part where I'm killing you?" Takashi replied stoically.

"Well, no… But are you not supposed to warn your opponent when you're fighting? You know, 'Engarde' and all?" Torteau sheepishly asked.

"No. **Yasaikiri**!" Takashi let his one-hand sword drop in a downward chop, causing Torteau to shield his face again as the one sword stroke delivered multiple strikes. This time a boulder behind him collapsed into slices.

"Stop that!" Torteau shouted, "In case you haven't noticed, it's useless anyway! With my armor, even your most powerful sword strikes will only sting me like a baby little-" the crab fishman ranted before he noticed Takashi charging towards him.

"**Ninjin-Hakuri**!" His arm with two-swords thrusted forward, scraping along both of Torteau's arms before they suddenly folded inward, converging on Torteau's eyestalks like pruning shears before Torteau's head drew back inside his shell at the last second.

"WATCH IT! YOU COULD HAVE TAKEN OUT AN EYE!" Torteau screamed.

"That's the point. Your shell might serve as an impenetrable armor, but you still have weak points. Your head, for example, is unprotected."

"Erk… S-so it is," Torteau twitched, one of his weaknesses being found so easily, "But that little problem is not so unsolvable," From both of his shoulders his armor folded inward, covering his head in a bright red shell with only two small holes for his eyes to peer out of, "**Kani Kani Helmet**! You were saying about my weakness, foolish human? Uweeheehee-"

"**Santoryuu: Tamanegi no Shoutan**!" Takashi, now in close quarters with Torteau, spun around, attacking with all three swords from multiple angles, all striking the armor in the head area. At first, it seemed fruitless, until several sparks from the clash of sword on armor jumped into Torteau's eyeholes.

"SACRE BLEU! IT'S IN MY EYES! AAAGH!" Torteau suddenly ran around in circles like a madman, the burning sparks stuck in his eyes.

"You are a disgrace to the title of chef, especially if such a small amount of pain is enough to make you wince," Takashi spat in disgust.

Torteau wiped his eyes as best he could before at least attempting to be menacing once more, "W-who's wincing? Uweeheehee… I'm only letting you get a few good hits. Let you think you're doing well. Uweeheehee… But I'm done playing around! This time I-"

"**Oni-**!" Takashi charged forward, his three swords converging on a single point

"NO! Not this time! **Kani Kani Chop**!" Torteau yelled as his pincers lashed out and grabbed two of the swords before clamping down, shattering the two blades.

Although it currently wasn't visible, Torteau laughed as he could see the odds turning back in his favor, "Uweeheehee… What will you do now that your precious swords have been severed?"

"The number of swords does not matter," Takashi stoically replied as he undid the bundle on his back.

"Uweehee-huh?" Torteau watched in horror as an entire pile of swords clattered to the ground, "Th-That's just overkill! How many swords does one man need, anyway?"

Takashi slowly picked up two swords from the bundle to replace the two that were just destroyed, "The sword itself, and the number of swords one uses, is irrelevant. Only the skill of the swordsman determines his strength, whether it's Ittoryuu, one-sword style, Nitoryuu, two-sword style, Santoryuu, three-sword style, or more, it does not matter. I only selected three swords earlier on a random basis."

"How-how many swords do you have?" the crab fishman was almost afraid to ask.

"I was travelling light, so only ten this time," Takashi casually replied.

"T-Ten? That's traveling light? Erk…" Torteau quickly did the math, and while he could probably destroy all the swords over the course of the battle, he didn't want to risk the swordsman finding a way to actually hurt him in the meantime, "It looks like I'll have to try something different," Torteau bolted towards the shoreline and thrust both pincers into the wet sand as it churned about in his claws, "My own recipe of fishman jutsu, mix one part ocean water and one part sand and… there we go!" Torteau picked up his closed pincers and pointed them at Takashi, grinning, "**Kani Kani Sand Bullet**!" Suddenly, both pincers shot out a small pellet of sand with the velocity of the bullet, which Takashi easily deflected.

"Such a weak attack won't work on me."

Torteau didn't lose his grin this time, "Aren't you forgetting someone? Oh, that's right, the girl doesn't matter to you," Takashi's quickly turned his head to see the scared stiff Wendy who, contrary to Takashi's instructions was still standing in the middle of the beach, watching the fight.

"**Kani Kani Sand Bullet**!" Torteau unleashed a barrage of machine-gun-fire sand bullets, this time at Wendy as Takashi instinctively dashed in front of her, parrying as many of the individual bullets with his swords as he could.

"I thought I told you to get away from here!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry, Iron Chef-sama. But I need to get to the water to help the others!" Wendy pleaded.

"You're interfering with my duel! Argh!" One moment of distraction was all it took as one of the sand bullets instead of being parried away was cut into two smaller bullets which both pierced Takashi as he collapsed to the ground.

"Iron Chef-sama!" Wendy cried out.

"Tsk tsk tsk… Should be focusing more on your duel, swordsman. Otherwise, you might get distracted," Torteau taunted.

"I'm-I'm sorry. It's my fault," Wendy sobbed.

For a moment, Takashi was silent, "… Do you still want to make it to the water?"

"W-what?"

"You could've just gone inland a long time ago, but you're still here. If I can get you to the water, will that get you out of my duel?" Takashi explained.

She didn't even need a second to think about her answer, "Y-yes."

"It will be dangerous," he warned.

"I don't care."

"The kitchen is not a place for the weak," Takashi slowly stood up, "If someone is not careful, the kitchen will cut or burn them. They can get sick from improperly prepared food. Do not go into the kitchen if you are unprepared for the consequences."

"I… I think I understand," she really didn't, but was determined to do what Takashi told her nonetheless.

"Very well. On my signal, run towards the water. No matter what happens, just run towards the water. I'll see that you get through," Takashi picked up his three swords, "Oh, and one more thing."

"What is it?"

"Dinner's at seven. Do not be late," the swordsman promised.

Torteau stood a good distance away along the shoreline, continuing to taunt Takashi at least until the human stood back up and he'd have a better shot, "Aw, did I hit one of _**your**_weak points little human swordsman? Why don't you stay down and make this easier for all of us, since there's no way you can beat me."

"A chef will rise to any challenge!" Takashi reclaimed his stance.

"Don't you mean a swordsman?" the crab fishman sneered, having already believed he'd won.

"To me, they are one and the same," Takashi charged forward, with Wendy running as fast as she could to keep up just behind him, "**Santoryuu**," Takashi took all three swords and spun them around in a circle, creating a shield of swinging blades, "**Mijingiri no Retasu**!"

"**Kani Kani Sand Bullet**!" Torteau shot a barrage of sand bullets again, and while most of the bullets were parried, a few grazed Takashi, who didn't flinch or slow at all at being struck. Wendy, however, was untouched. Finally in close range, all three swords in Takashi's attack were stopped in its tracks by Torteau's powerful claws, "Ha! How pathetic. You still can't break through my armor!" But as Takashi kept the crab in a deadlock, Wendy ran past the pair and bolted for the water, "W-what? No fair!" Torteau quickly chopped through all three swords and turned to face Wendy.

"Down to five swords," Takashi spoke aloud to himself as he leaped back to his collection of remaining swords, "Got to make this… Damn," Just as Takashi looked up, before he could draw a sword, the crab fishman was nowhere to be found even as Wendy was still running.

"**Kani Kani Sand Wall**!" the crab's voice echoed as a barrier of sand shot up just between Wendy and the ocean, completely cutting her off. It didn't take long for Takashi to realize that the crab had burrowed underground, "Uweeheehee… where do you think you're going mon petit cherie? You'll miss the main course!"

"**Kani Kani Donabe**!" The sand wall grew both in height and in length until it circled both Takashi and Wendy, quickly arching over them as the circular barrier cut out the light of day and became a large dome with a single hole at the top. Wendy tried to force her way through, but found the sandy wall as hard as stone.

"Can't you cut through this?" Takashi was way ahead of her though as he tried cutting the wall, only for sand to fill in the fresh cut he made.

"It's too thick. Even if I could cut through it, the sand would just collapse on top of us, Takashi stood analyzing the situation."

Torteau's voice echoed, "Uweeheehee… Right you are, my delectable little treats! In this oven you'll both bake into wonderful little morsels!" As if their predicament wasn't bad enough, the hole at the top of the dome was plugged with what looked like a boulder.

"What do we do now?" Wendy once again looked to the swordsman for answers.

"The crab is probably lighting a fire beneath the Donabe right now, planning to cook us alive," Takashi thought aloud, "How disrespectful, he doesn't even bother to add broth, vegetables, or seasoning."

"And yet somehow, that part's not what I'm worried about."

Even in complete darkness, Wendy could feel Takashi's cold stare on her, "Girl, I warned you the kitchen is a dangerous place," An arm, a human arm thankfully, grabbed Wendy and forced her to the center of the dome, "Stand here and try not to pass out. It's about to get very warm in here," Wendy couldn't see, but she could feel the air move with Takashi's movements, and brief sparks let her know that Takashi was slicing up the inside of the pot, possibly with all five swords if that was even possible, as the sparks became flames that trailed along with the swords.

Other than the light show, Wendy couldn't see what Takashi was trying to do, "What are you doing? This will just heat the place up faster! We'll be cooked alive!"

"I know…" was the only reply from the swordsman.

Meanwhile, outside the clay oven, Torteau fanned the flames he created at the base of the oven, licking his lips in anticipation of his meal, "Uweeheehee… A shame all of my seasonings are still on board the ship. Oh well, maybe I can find some nice herbs to go with my meal. Aw, who am I kidding? I prefer the purity of the flavor any day," Suddenly, the oven started trembling, and Torteau could feel an immense heat pouring from inside the pot, "That's strange, they shouldn't be cooked for a long while yet..."

"**Yaki Tatsumaki**!" The boulder plugging the top burst off the dome as a column of fire shot upwards, startling Torteau. When the flames subsided, he looked on in horror as Takashi emerged, two swords in his hands and three swords thrust into the top of the Donabe. Wendy kneeled next to him, her eyes spinning in spirals.

"_All the fishies are so very pretty daddy, can I keep one?" _she rambled incoherently.

Torteau visibly twitched in anger, and started screaming at the top of his lungs, "You pathetic pestering cockroach! Didn't your mother ever teach you it was rude to interrupt mealtime? And yet you continue with your antics? I don't care anymore if I render you a bloody unusable husk, I'll see you as a corpse!" This time, Torteau brought both of his pincers together and instead of a barrage of sand bullets, launched one man-sized ball of sand at the humans, "**Kani Kani Sand Cannon**!"

"Get ready, girl," Takashi softly warned.

"_But I don't wanna go to school to_-wait, what?" Wendy had barely enough time to come to her senses as Takashi picked her up by the collar and threw her as hard as possible out into the bay, Wendy screaming as she flew through the air, "AIYEEEEEeeeeee….."

The sand cannon enveloped Takashi entirely and exploded in a flurry of sand, and for a moment it seemed that the swordsman was no more, "Uweeheehee… that's one down…"

"Now we can finish this without distraction," Suddenly, the sand split in two and dispersed, Takashi having sliced it at the last possible second. The swordsman now wielded one sword in each hand with three remaining next to him, "I now see my mistake. I've been treating you as a fellow chef and giving you an honorable duel. Now I see the proper way to battle you would be to treat you as you truly are: an unfavorable piece of meat that needs to be properly cooked."

Torteau was unimpressed, "Big talk. But you still can't pierce my armor, and I can break your swords like chopsticks. There's only five of them left, oui?"

"We'll see," Takashi spun both swords and struck the three swords in the ground, launching them at Torteau as spinning projectiles all at once, "**3-Point Kushi**!"

"Whatever you're trying, it won't work!" Torteau stood his ground and snapped one sword out of the air, "Four," his other claw caught a second sword, shattering it into tiny shards, "Three," But with only two claws, the third sword imbedded itself in a chink on his elbow, "ERGH!" Despite the pain, even with a blade sticking out of his arm, Torteau chuckled, "Uweeheehee, down to two now. What a waste…"

Takashi launched forward, both swords poised, "**Santoryuu**,"

"But you only have two swords left!" Torteau protested.

"**Onigiri**!" Both swords slashed forward in an X, the cross of both striking the hilt of the sword imbedded in Torteau's flesh, driving it through with much more force. A loud crack sounded, and suddenly the three swords pierced all the way through the arm, severing it completely from Torteau.

There was no blood or other bodily fluid, likely from the crab's strange biology, even as the arm fell limp to the ground. Torteau screamed in agony, "You…!"

Takashi turned with both swords in hand and the third at his feet, "It appears I am not the only one capable of being disarmed. Your armor might be thick, but like any steamed crab it can be broken apart at the joint."

"This… this isn't fair! This is sick! Twisted!"

"If you can't take the heat," Takashi prepared his next attack, "Then you shame your ancestors and should atone with seppuku."

"THAT'S NOT HOW THAT SAYING GOES!" His own words suddenly inspiring him, Torteau's eerie grin returned, "Uweeheehee… in fact, maybe I should just 'get out of the kitchen'," The crab fishman quickly bolted to the water, "There's a much tastier morsel in the water already."

"Get back here! Our duel isn't finished!" Takashi yelled.

"I'll forfeit if it means I get the girl as a consolation prize! Uweeheehee…" Torteau taunted as he sunk beneath the waves.

* * *

As Wendy rocketed through the air screaming, she quickly slapped herself to get a grip, the situation coming back to her. The fishman headquarters had completely submerged by this point, Wendy could see it through the crystal blue water. With very little time before she hit the water, Wendy took as deep a breath of air as she could before crashing into the bay, diving far deeper than she ever had before and probably ever would. Her body wanted to float up with the air in her lungs, but even though she lacked the strength of her friends, Wendy swam down towards the underwater fortress as fast as she could. The closer she was to the ship, the more likely this had a chance of working.

* * *

_A much younger teenage Wendy toiled away, pushing a large wooden contraption alongside a feeble old man, her father. The contraption would normally draw freshwater from the ground with a windmill connected to the contraption, but the air had been still for three days now. Even combined, the old man and young girl could barely move the thing._

_As they toiled, a fishwoman gleefully ran up the hill towards them, waving cheerfully. "Hey, Wendy! You're still here? We were going to go shopping today, remember?"_

"_In case you haven't noticed, Linda, I've got actual work to do, so make like a tree and get the hell out of here!" Wendy angrily retorted through gritted teeth and a cigarette. _

"_Well, that's not very ladylike," Linda replied sarcastically, "Isn't this thing supposed to run on its own?"_

"_Windmills tend not to work without wind, stupid."_

"_Wendy, don't talk to our guest that way!" scolded the old man, who really didn't have the energy to properly punish his daughter while trying to operate the machine, "I'm sorry Linda, but unless the winds miraculously pick up, we'll be at this awhile. Otherwise, the village will run out of drinking water."_

_Linda smiled, "Well, why didn't you say so?" Linda effortlessly leaped up to the top of the windmill._

_"Hey, get down from there! You'll break something!" Wendy yelled._

"_Aw, don't worry about me, I'll be fine," Linda smiled sweetly as she climbed._

"_I'm worried about the windmill, you moron!"_

_Ignoring her, Linda took a deep breath and blew directly into the windmill's sails, and suddenly the windmill sprang alive, turning so fast it looked like it was in the middle of a tornado. Wendy and her father were knocked to the ground as Linda lightly jumped down. "Ah, sorry, should've warned you."_

"_Damn straight you should've warned us! You could've killed my old man!"_

"_Amazing," despite his exhaustion, the old man stood up and marveled at the windmill now in overdrive, "You truly are a blessing upon us, Linda."_

"_Really, it's nothing special. Just a little talent of mine," Linda replied._

"_WE DON'T NEED YOUR HELP HERE, YOU… YOU DAMN FLOUNDER!" Wendy stormed off, already mumbling to herself trying to think of a better insult._

"_I'm terribly sorry about Wendy's behavior," the old man apologized, "She's just impossible to bring under control."_

"_Hey, don't worry about it, that just means she's got a good, strong spirit. Besides I've met flounders. They can actually be quite cute," Linda joked despite Wendy's attempts to insult her, "I guess that means we're not going shopping today. Oh well, let me see if I can go catch up to her. Later!"_

* * *

_It's always been that way. I've always been weak. I've always needed help. I've never been strong enough to help anyone. Even now, it's not going to be me saving everyone. Once again, you're showing me up, Linda, just like always. _As Wendy swam down in the bay and her thoughts swam around in her head, she didn't notice the one-armed figure rapidly catching up to her.

"OH MON CHERIE!" Even with one arm, Torteau was far faster and far more agile in the water than any human. Wendy tried to swim away but the crab fishman wrapped his one good pincer quickly grabbed her, wrapping around her throat. Torteau could've chopped her head clean off there, but planned to enjoy himself, making this as slow and painful as possible, "I am so elated that we finally have a few moments alone. That swordsman was such a third wheel, don't you agree?"

Even if they weren't underwater, the claw slowly crushing her throat would've made it impossible to respond anyway, cutting off her windpipe, "Ah, but don't worry, mon cherie. He won't catch up to us for a while. I think we can serve the first course before he gets here, non?" Torteau squeezed his grip tighter as a few drops of her blood seeped into the water, "Oh, there is no seasoning more satisfying than sheer terror and despair. Uweeheehee… heh?" Torteau carefully studied the girl's face, but could find neither. Instead, all he found was determination and… a growing smile?

Behind him, Torteau could hear the churning and bubbling of water getting closer and closer. "No… there's no way," His eyestalks popped out of the helmet and turned to look behind him. Takashi rocketed towards him like a missile, spinning all three swords as a propeller. Torteau was rendered speechless as the swordsman stopped with the three-sword propeller and brought his swords forward, his momentum keeping him hurtling straight towards Torteau. It didn't matter that he only had two hands for three swords, as the two swords in-hand simply pushed the third at such an angle so that all three struck Torteau in the same attack as before.

All three swords struck at once on Torteau's other arm, severing it completely as it released Wendy and fell to the ocean floor. Torteau was now completely helpless, even in the water, and Takashi was not about to let him escape.

Wendy didn't squander the opportunity as she quickly swam away, getting closer and closer to the submerged pagoda, specifically a large hole in the side. _The fact is I'm living off of a borrowed life, one that if I had the chance I'd give back if I could. But don't worry Linda. Since I can't do that, I'll make sure that your sacrifice won't be in vain. _

* * *

_Wendy stumbled through the town hall, trying to find some refuge from the painful groans of the slowly dying. She herself couldn't breathe without a significant amount of pain__. She was sweating profusely and her vision was blurry at best. Mambo had told her to stay in bed, but she couldn't, not with all the sick and dying around her._

_She stumbled into another room, and her eyes started to focus. Her eyesight had been going in and out for the past day or so, but she could make out another collapsed body in this room. Only this one was new. Quickly recognizing Linda, Wendy rushed over to her side, "No, not you too!" she barely managed to cough out. That's when she noticed the empty syringe in Linda's hand. One she knew didn't used to contain medicine. "Linda! What have you done?" _

"_Sh…" whispered the fishwoman quietly, "It's for the best, really."_

"_No! I'll get Mambo. We can still get the stuff out of your system!" Wendy wasn't sure that was true, but she rushed up to get help, only for her arm to be grabbed. With her lungs she could barely speak much less call for help. "Let go, Linda! You can't die like this! You can't take your own life!"_

"_I'm not taking my own life, sweetie," Linda calmly replied through half-open eyes, "I'm giving it to others. I know it sounds weird, but I think… I think this is best."_

"_You can't! You mean too much to everyone! To Brody! To me!" Tears streamed down Wendy's face as she collapsed to her knees._

_Linda gave a light chuckle, "What's this? Stone-cold iron-wall Wendy actually crying? How cute," Linda smiled as she looked into Wendy's eyes, "You're going to get a second chance, okay? Do me a favor and try not to spend it all in one place." _

_Wendy was rendered speechless. Finally, her body screamed on its own, ignoring the many pains in her chest. That's when the door burst open and Brody and Mambo burst in._

_She was shoved to the floor, but she couldn't find the strength to move or care anymore. Slowly Wendy's eyes closed as she fell asleep. _

* * *

_I may not be able to save the others, but you can. I may be weak, but you were always strong. And now, with your help, we can make a difference. _Almost to the ocean floor now, Wendy finally exhaled. Instead of floating up to the surface in a stream of bubbles, her breath filled one bubble which grew, and grew, and grew. It enveloped Wendy, Takashi, and Torteau, who were tossed around by the swirling winds inside the bubble. Eventually the bubble completely enveloped the pagoda which crashed onto the ocean floor, water flooding out of every orifice. Even still the bubble grew until a large air-filled dome occupied the bottom of the bay. Wendy fell to the ground, prone and exhausted. The crab fishman crashed unceremoniously into the ocean floor head-first while Takashi landed gracefully on his feet.

"That's it, guys… That's all I can do…" Wendy couldn't stand up, she was too exhausted, but she couldn't sleep either. All she could do was watch as the events unfolded, "I just hope it's enough…"

Author's Notes:

Good reviews so far! I'm trying to respond to everyone's questions via PM, so if I miss yours, just let me know!

Takashi's attacks are obviously in Japanese (and probably poorly translated too), but here's a glossary so far.

**Imokiri** – Potato Slice - A single slice that can hit enough times to slice its target into perfect cubes. Useful for dicing potatoes.

**Yasaikiri** – Vegetable Slice – A single slice that can hit enough times to cut its target into perfect segments like a freshly sliced vegetable.

**Ninjin Hakuri** – Carrot Peel – An attack which scrapes the sword(s) along the target's surface in an attempt to weaken or peel off defenses.

**Tamanegi no Shoutan** – Onion Crying in Pain – A series of attacks aimed at the eyes of the target in order to blind it either with the attack itself, or sparks, dust, force, etc. from the attack.

**Mijingiri no Retasu** – Shredded Lettuce – Spinning the sword(s) in a circle like a blender to parry multiple attacks. Admittedly more of a defensive maneuver.

**Yaki Tatsumaki** – Fire Dragon Twister, also Fire Sushi - Tatsumaki is one of Roronoa Zoro's more popular moves, though the chapter's circumstances let Takashi add a fiery twist to it.

**3-Point Kushi** - 3-Point Skewer - Launches swords as projectiles to impale the opponent. A good setup manuever for other attacks.

**Onigiri** – Demon Slice, also Rice Ball – Also one of Roronoa Zoro's more popular attacks, but with a pun name like Rice Ball, can you really expect Takashi **not **to use it?

Also **Kani** means crab for those of you who didn't know, which is really all you need to know for Torteau's attacks. Oh, and a **Donabe** is a special Japanese clay pot/oven for cooking.


	12. The Battle Turns

_Instead of floating up to the surface in a stream of bubbles, her breath filled one bubble which grew, and grew, and grew. It enveloped Wendy, Takashi, and Torteau, who were tossed around by the swirling winds inside the bubble. Eventually the bubble completely enveloped the pagoda which crashed onto the ocean floor, water flooding out of every orifice. Even still the bubble grew until a large air-filled dome occupied the bottom of the bay. Wendy fell to the ground, prone and exhausted. "That's it, guys… That's all I can do…" Wendy couldn't stand up, she was too exhausted, but she couldn't sleep either. All she could do was watch as the events unfolded, "I just hope it's enough…"_

"_**Flaming Ax Kick**__!" Brody kicked Natalie back down to the bottom of the flooded room as she burst through to the floor below._

"_Then you're too late," she quietly replied._

* * *

_Brody quickly turned to see Michael slowly sinking into this floor from the room above. Even if he still had any life in him, the entire ship was now completely submerged, with no possible air to revive him._

When the ship flooded as it submerged, it was like being hit by a tidal wave. But the sudden force surging throughout the now beached fortress was more akin to a hurricane sweeping through the halls. Doors were ripped off their hinges and furniture was tossed about if not completely destroyed.

In the galley, one floor below the engineering room, Brody and Natalie, who had used all their strength fighting the insane currents, slowly stood back up, dizzy and wracked with pain from the ordeal, neither one entirely sure what just happened.

Slowly they both regained their senses. Brody noticed he was breathing with lungs, not gills, and for a second he thought the ship had suddenly surfaced. A quick glance out the window revealed a wall of water on the ocean floor, suggesting otherwise. It wasn't the first time he'd seem this sort of phenomenon, but the usual cause of it was long dead.

"L-Linda? It can't be…" Natalie gasped out. Though there was a weak bit of hope in her voice, it was soon crushed by the logic of the situation, as Natalie as well as Brody quickly figured out the only possible cause of breathing air on the ocean floor, "That human girl. She did this! She did this with what she stole from Linda! I'll kill her!" Natalie flew into a rage again and launched herself for the exit only for her path to be obstructed by Brody once more.

"You won't," Brody took no fighting stance, but he blocked the one exit from the galley, "No one will, not while I can help it."

"Get out of my way, or I'll…" Natalie threatened.

"Go ahead," Brody stoically dared.

"**Cement Slime**!" Natalie threw a glob of gray slime at Brody which covered his body and solidified, "You won't be able to block or dodge with this binding you. **Cement Slime Dagger**!" Natalie formed another small gray blob, this staying in her hand and sculpting itself into a blade, "HERE I COME!" Natalie charged forward, dagger in hand, but Brody stood motionless.

* * *

"_Hey! Hey, Natalie!" yelled a voice just outside a teenage Natalie's window._

"_Huh?" Linda and a still sobbing Natalie went to the window._

_On the street below was Brody and several other muscular fishmen, all surrounding a skinny, beat-up little teenager, "Oh geez, not again…"Linda shook her head in shame._

_Natalie watched in confusion as Brody elbowed the battered, skinny little man. He got pushed forward, at which point he looked up and slowly spoke, "I-I'm really sorry about earlier, Natalie. I'm such a jerk. I'd beg for your forgiveness, but I know I'm unworthy of it because I'm a no good sleaze-ball. Also, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met," When he was done, the little man turned to Brody and cowardly squeaked, "There, can I go now?"_

"_That's enough, Brody. You can't just go around beating up and threatening everyone, even if they are jerks," Linda scolded._

_Brody crossed his arms as he looked down on the little man, "I don't know. Natalie, want me to rough this guy up a little more?"_

_Natalie sniffed, "Maybe just a little…"_

"_Nattie!"_

_Brody grinned wide, baring his large shark teeth for the little man to cower at even more, "All right, Jonny, it's your lucky day! We're having a special on knuckle sandwiches!"_

* * *

"_What do you mean you want me to be a navigator?" An older Natalie was interrupted from her book by Brody who was standing on the deck of this old pagoda-esque ship._

"_I really don't know how to explain it more plainly than that," replied Brody._

"_On that old rust bucket? No thanks."_

"_Hey, watch your language! This baby's a war veteran!" Brody lovingly polished the wood of the deck. It took him weeks and lot of help from friends to restore this ship._

"_It has to survive a war in order to be considered a veteran of it," said Natalie cynically._

"_Aw, come on, Nattie," Linda hopped up and sat on the deck rails, "It won't be the same otherwise unless all our friends come with. Besides, if you don't come, then Brody will have to navigate and then we'll be asking every fish we come across for directions." Brody opened his mouth to protest, but Linda quietly slapped his wrist without looking. Brody remained quiet._

_Although Natalie did her best to appear disinterested, she blushed a little bit at the thought of actually being praised for something. "Tch, fine. If only because otherwise you'd never let me hear the end of it." Natalie made her way onto the rickety old ship as Brody, Linda, and the other fishmen on board cheered._

* * *

Natalie thrust the blade forward and stabbed Brody right in the gut. Even as blood dripped out of the wound, Brody didn't move or flinch. "Why won't you fight back? You'll die if you don't!" Natalie drew her weapon and frantically stabbed Brody again and again, each time drawing more blood, but still each wound was superficial, whether or not she realized it. Tears streamed from Natalie's eyes even as she hysterically continued stabbing Brody.

Despite several gashes in his sides, Brody stood his ground, only barely wincing between attacks, "I don't care. I won't hurt you," At this rate, Natalie's rage outdid her exhaustion, and the dagger plunged towards Brody's heart, Brody still not moving.

"Aye, but I will." Both Brody and Natalie looked up in surprise. At some point, Michael had jumped up onto Natalie's shell and was straddling it, both hands around the trigger of one of his Boomers and pointing it straight at Natalie's face, "Miss me, monster?" Michael grinned as he pulled the trigger. Instead of an explosion, a soft poof signaled a cloud of white powder being blasted into Natalie's face. At first, the white powder which settled on everyone, seemed to be harmless.

"Wh-what?" Suddenly, Natalie clutched her face, screaming in agony as the powder burned away at every inch of her skin.

"Winner: Michael!" Michael merrily hopped down from the shell as Natalie collapsed to the ground in pain, Brody rendered speechless in shock and horror, "I sure got lucky. Found a sealed, waterproof pantry with a clean rag to dry me Boomer. No gunpowder though, so I had to make do with what I could find. Fortunately, fighting a sea slug isn't as bad when you have a few bags of pure salt to throw on it."

"It burns…" Natalie whimpered, covering her face on the floor.

"Natalie!" Brody effortlessly broke through the cement block binding him, shoved Michael aside, and rushed to Natalie's side.

"I'm so ugly… you couldn't even love me… over a human…" Her voice grew weaker as she spoke.

"Sh, Nattie," Brody whispered, "I do love you. Like a sister."

Michael stood up and brushed himself off, indignantly shouting, "Hey there, how about a 'Thanks for saving me life, Michael' or even a 'Good job beatin' the sea monster, Michael?' Too much to ask?"

Brody shot Michael an icy glare that the latter either didn't notice or didn't respond to. He wanted to give Michael a piece of his mind, but there were more important matters at the moment, "Pick up her shell. We need to get her to a doctor, either mine or yours."

Michael crossed his arms obstinately, "An' why would I want to do somethin' like that?"

"Either you help and carry her shell or you carry the burnt, slimy end."

Michael twitched and reluctantly bent over to pick up the shell, larger than he was, "Bloody hate ye," The shell was so large and heavy Michael felt like he was moving heavy machinery, "Oy, what does she have in here, a kitchen sink?"

"I think so actually," The two working together to carry Natalie, they both ran off as fast as they could.

* * *

"_There's no escape! __**Fishman Santoryuu: Three Thousand Underwater Worlds!**__" Jude was engulfed in the center of the vortex taking the full brunt, as it felt like thousands of sharp teeth rended his flesh, until everything finally went dark. _

_Xiphias eyed the now unmoving human body in the water, and slightly bowed, "You may have been human, and a very annoying one at that, but your swordsmanship, while strange, was admirable. I will give you the honor of a warrior's death."_

* * *

Xiphias had dug his blade into the floor of the main hall in order to not get swept away by the raging currents. The swirling whirlpool quickly drained out into a cyclone of spinning winds. When the air finally settled, Xiphias slowly stood up, trying to discern his situation.

"Ugh… What was that?" Xiphias grabbed hold of the communication pipe in the wall, "Natalie, status report!"

Silence.

"Natalie! Natalie, are you there? Damn!" Xiphias punched the wall as it collapsed from all the structural damage, "That almost seemed like Linda's power, but that's impossible…" Surveying the scene, Xiphias found the hall to be littered with holes to the outside of the ship. All the wounded fishmen from before were now gone, but Xiphias did notice several of the new holes in the ship to be distinctly fishman-shaped, "Everyone else must have been thrown from the building from that. Without the strength to fight the current it's no wonder they got tossed from the ship. Which is probably for the best. Now instead of being unnecessary casualties, they'll hopefully stay out of the battlefield long enough to heal. Speaking of which," Xiphias turned his eye to the one other soul in the room, the human slowly stood up, covered in cuts and bruises.

Jude sighed, "How annoying. I better get these treated soon. If any of these cuts should leave a scar on my flawless body my fans will never forgive themselves," the actor dusted himself off, picked up his now sheathed rapier and started walking towards the exit.

"I don't know how, but it looks like you still have some life in you yet, human," Xiphias took his fighting stance, eager to finish the duel, "Now draw your weapon so we can finish this!"

"Pass," Jude disinterestedly waved him off.

"Wh-what?" Xiphias stood flabbergasted.

Jude shrugged, "The audience has left. The show's over. I don't perform for an empty house."

"Show? Do not make light of me, human! I defeated you once, I can do so again!"

"Oh dear, I think there's been a misunderstanding," Jude stopped and calmly explained, "See, I was just doing my job, providing entertainment for my adoring masses. Our performance was a wonderful display of showmanship. The audience was simply swept away," Jude beamed proudly, "Though now that they're literally swept away it wouldn't be much fun to defeat you in private. How unfortunate, the audience left right before the climax," Jude tapped his chin thoughtfully, pondering his performance.

Xiphias was fuming at Jude's insinuations, "Don't think you can pretend it was all a big joke! I had already dealt you the finishing blow!"

"Of course you did," Jude rolled his eyes, having to explain the concept of acting to an amateur, "I told you, at the end of the play, the hero dies. It wouldn't make much narrative sense if I were to easily trounce you here. Besides," Jude smiled coldly at the swordfishman, "Isn't that the type of performance you and your people wanted? One where the human loses to the sea monster?"

"That's it! You will pay for your insolence!" Xiphias retook his fighting stance, "If you will not face me, then you will die a coward's death!" Dipping his bladed nose in the pool of water on the floor, Xiphias spun around as the water mixed with a spiral shockwave and launched forward, the end of which seemed to have the head and jaws of a serpent, "**Sea Serpent Strike**!"

Jude shook his head and calmly grasped the hilt of his rapier, "You're doing it wrong."

"What?"

"This is how that attack is done," Jude gracefully spun in place, quickly unsheathing his rapier and launching a thin, spiral shockwave to meet Xiphias's attack, "_**Tempest Dance**_!" Jude's shockwave effortlessly shattered Xiphias's attack and enveloped the swordfishman, lifting him into the air from the sheer force. Xiphias could feel multiple blades cutting up his body, not randomly, but spiral cuts that ran across his limbs and up his entire body in perfect synchronization. By the time the attack was done, Jude had already sheathed his sword. Xiphias fell limp to the ground, defeated, but Jude only seemed annoyed.

"See? Now, look what you've done. The action scene's done with and there isn't a single audience member to be impressed," he scratched his chin as he thought out loud to himself, "Oh well, I suppose this means I could embellish the story for later. I was planning to do so anyway, this just gives me more creative liberty. A great story about how a swordsman prevails against a crew of vicious, merciless sea monsters and their captain without even a pair of shoes or a shirt on his back, the ultimate underdog tale of the pauper prevailing over his plight," On the ground, Xiphias weakly chuckled, distracting Jude from his thoughts, "Is something humorous? I fail to see the punch line,"

"Your assumption that I'm the captain," came the weak reply.

Jude rolled his eyes, "Well, obviously Brody is, or was, the captain, and from what I gather you're the first mate. At least before, but since Brody's gone that would make you the acting captain, or at least the ringleader of this little operation."

"You are very wrong, human," Jude raised an eyebrow, intrigued, as Xiphias continued, "**Tiburones Gemelos** means **Twin Sharks** and, if you were to include Brody, we had two captains before. Now we have just the one…"

Meanwhile, outside the ship in the giant air dome, Takashi stared down his now armless opponent, making sure the crab didn't have any other tricks up his sleeve, even if those sleeves were now separated from his body. Suddenly a great shadow blocked out the sun, and Takashi, Torteau, and Wendy looked up to see a large serpentine shape get closer and closer.

At first, Takashi thought a sea king was about to attack them, which wasn't a far off assumption. When the shape got close enough it erupted through the dome, proving to indeed be a sea king, but instead of launching itself at nearby prey, the sea king collapsed onto the ocean floor, dead.

The metal sheen and long narrow nose gave it away as La Espada, Sword of the Sea, and local terrifying sea monster, at least it was. Holding onto the beast by the tip of the nose was a hulking fishman, far larger than even Brody was, and much more menacing with a constant feral look in his eyes. His hair was badly managed into a spiky mohawk. On his shoulder was a tattoo of the jolly roger for the Tiburones Gemelos, two sharks circling a whirlpool. He didn't wear much, only a ripped leather jacket several sizes too small that on someone even like Hammie or Brody would still only be the size of a large overcoat. The only thing on his legs were tattered blue swim trunks that didn't go past the thigh. It was easy to see why, as on the back of both of his legs the cartilage angled to a point, turning both legs into two giant cartilage blades.

Takashi looked on in interest, easily able to recognize a much worthier opponent than the cowardly crab, who was doing more cowering now than ever. The new arrival surveyed the scene annoyed as Torteau, his entire body shaking in fear, in an attempt to greet the boss, only managed to squeak out his name,

"C-Captain **Kitsushi**!"

Author's Notes: So I was hoping to make up for lost time by posting three chapters at once, but I'm still on Chapter 14, which is turning out to be so long I'll probably have to split it into two chapters on its own. Expect Chapter 13 to be up soon though!


	13. The True Captain, Part 1

"C-Captain **Kitsushi**!" Torteau squeaked out.

The large fishman locked eyes with Torteau, his narrow, cold, piercing eyes. A low growl rumbled from his throat, "Torteau…" The crab seemed to shrink two sizes, "Explain…"

"Ah, well you see, I was just minding my own busi- I mean, doing my job and guarding the bay from intruders. Yes. And that man, that swordsman over there," Torteau tried to point at Takashi, realized how pointless of an endeavor that was, and nudged his head over at him a couple times, "Yes, him, over there, he comes up to me, and I say he can't enter the bay, and he just attacks me! Out of nowhere! Slices both my arms clean off! Don't worry though, I think I can get them reattached if I just find Mambo and get them on ice…"

"**TORTEAU**!" bellowed Kitsushi, silencing the crab as the water wall around them rippled from the force of his voice, "I. Don't. Care. What the hell happened to my ship and why are we breathing air at the bottom of my bay?"

"Oh…." Torteau looked around a bit nervously, "To tell the truth I have no idea about this air-dome or whatever it is or the ship. All I know is that it started sinking before this boat appeared," Kitsushi snarled, panicking Torteau into coming up with other details, "Ah, but if I had to guess it was probably Wendy's fault. You remember Wendy, right? That delectable little human girl we bade au revoir to a few days ago? She's back now! Isn't that naughty of her?" Kitsushi's eyes quickly darted to the prone Wendy, who, already paralyzed with fear, started hyperventilating as she found herself unable to break eye contact with the fierce gaze of Kitsushi.

"And Brody?" he growled out, still staring at the girl.

"O-oh yes, he is back too! Very rebellious of him, no? And to think he didn't even offer an apology…"

"**WHERE IS HE**?" Kitsushi's eyes finally darted back to Torteau, growing impatient.

"Er…" Torteau nervously began, "He was taken on board the ship, before the other humans snuck on board and-"

"**HUMANS STEPPING FOOT ON THE WARSHIP OF OUR ANCESTORS**?" Kitsushi roared as the water walls rippled with his voice again.

"Um… I'll just be going now," Torteau slowly edged away before a massive arm lunged out and grabbed him by the throat.

"Brody…" Kitsushi growled in between breaths, his bloodlust slowly growing, "He's responsible for this. Go get him," Kitsushi's face was suddenly only inches from Torteau's, "**NOW**!"

"Well, I would, but, heh, funny thing I've suddenly developed a physical handicap, so if I could just go get my arms and get them reattached, then we could-" Suddenly, Kitsushi's leg whipped around, seemingly straight through the quivering crab fishman. Kitsushi's leg touched the ground as quickly as it kicked up and he walked away as Torteau stood silent. Suddenly, Torteau's head and the top half of his armor shifted, slowly sliding off the rest of the body, falling lifelessly to the side. The now decapitated body fell backwards, and Takashi could tell it was a perfectly smooth, clean cut, straight through the same armor that Takashi could barely dent with his best swordplay. The two pieces steamed at the freshly cut edges.

"You, human…" Kitsushi spat in disgust as Takashi's grip only tightened on his swords even as his blood boiled and his thoughts raced. Unlike the cowardly crab, this could present a challenge, "I don't recognize you, so you probably came here with Brody. Go find the traitorous bastard and bring him here, and I might consider sparing your life."

"Forgive me, but I cannot," Takashi's grip on all three swords tightened even as his voice maintained a respectful tone, as such a true opponent would deserve

The larger fishman's eyes narrowed at the human, "Are you trying to die early?" asked an annoyed Kitsushi.

"The other fishman has nothing to do with me. The only reason I am here at all was to execute the heretic you just killed," he replied stoically.

"Well, I guess you suddenly have some free time in your day then. So go fetch Brody," the larger fishman commanded.

"As I said before, I cannot."

"And why not?"

Takashi slowly raised his swords to a defensive stance, "As I said before, we are unaffiliated. My only purpose now is to duel a strong opponent such as yourself."

Kitsushi muttered some unintelligible fishman curse and rubbed his temple in frustration, "Not another one of you punks. Listen, I don't have time to play Yojimbo with your kind. That's what Xiphias is for. I'll decide whether or not to kill you later. As for you…" Kitsushi turned to Wendy, "I only let you off easy as a favor for Brody, a favor that I will not grant again," He slowly approached Wendy, eyes filled with hatred, "And I'm assuming this…" he motioned to the giant air dome around them, "…is your handiwork. Or rather, Linda's," Finally, his low rumbling voice once again erupted into a thunderous roar, shaking the watery walls, "**YOU INSOLENT, THIEVING, MURDERING LITTLE BRAT! YOU WILL FINALLY PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES**!"

Kitsushi got ready to charge the helpless girl, but Takashi calmly stepped between them. "Get out of my way!" the fishman shouted.

"Consider this a retribution. You stole my rightful kill from me. I will prevent you from yours, whether it's rightful or not."

Kitsushi's rage softened into a disgruntled sigh, "Should've figured," he cracked his knuckles as well as his neck, "I gave you every chance in the world to back off, but that ship has sailed."

Takashi didn't smile, but his entire body stood on edge in excitement, "I'm ready."

Kitsushi slowly raised one of his legs in a perfect 180 degree angle above his head, reassuring Takashi that the fishman didn't just fight with blind rage and bestial instinct, he knew exactly what he was doing, "No. You're not."

* * *

Brody and Michael dashed as fast as they could through damaged, slightly mis-angled hallways and up nearly collapsed stairs, Michael cursing the whole way as he was somehow carrying a giant shell larger than he was that was about twice as heavy as it looked. He wanted to curse out Brody the entire way, but his ribcage was slowly being crushed as is and he could barely keep breathing.

"We're here," came Brody's voice up front as Michael silently thanked several of the obscure gods he was just naming in his swearing. Of course as soon as he stood still, the shell seemed twice as heavy as before.

Brody quickly approached the medical ward door, but before he could grab it, the door erupted outward as more water spilled outward, this time only refreshing their heels instead of submerging the hallway. Brody was momentarily stunned, confused, and soon bewildered as a giant, unfamiliar hand reached out the doorway and grasped the side pulling out a large, hulking muscular figure much larger than even Brody as it barely fit into the hallway. It took a few seconds to recognize the Doc, his lab coat now no more than a light jacket on him, his muscles expanded to ridiculous proportions. Despite Brody's surprise, Michael seemed unimpressed. "Hey Doc, is that you? We got a live one for ye, not for lack of tryin' though."

The Doc looked at the two and smiled, looking like someone had taken his head and placed it on some ogre's body, "Brody, good to see you're not dead, yet. I take this is Michael's handiwork?"

The fishman was still fixated on just how much weight the once skinny doctor had put on recently, "How…?"

Doc blinked before realizing what had Brody stunned, "Oh, this? This is just one of my personal cocktails, **Hulk Out**. Increases muscle mass, strength, etcetera. Now let's get her looked at," Despite his massive size and strength, Doc's tone was as relaxed as ever even as he looked over Natalie, "Geez, what did you do, Michael, give her an acid bath?"

Michael rolled his eyes, "Well, sorry, I thought we came here to kick some fishy arse, not give 'em a gentle finger-waggin'!"

"Normally this wouldn't be too difficult, but I don't know how regular medicine and bandages will hold up with that charred slime covering her body," Doc turned and shouted back inside the medical ward, "Hey, Mambo, what do you normally use to treat the snail woman?"

"Natalie's hurt? Ergh…" the jellyfishman tried to stand up but was still having trouble breathing, "There's a medicated sponge in that top left drawer. You can apply medicine to it and it should simultaneously soak up fluids and administer medication," Doc followed the instructions as he searched through the cabinets, "Over in that cabinet you'll find some burn cream and in the drawer below that you should find some anesthetic, antibiotic ointment, and epinephrine..."

"Allergy medication? What for?" Doc asked.

"Salt allergy. After medication has been applied, bandage the wounded area…" Mambo continued before being cut off.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the rest. I'm a doctor too you know," Doc set to work treating Wendy, slowly bandaging her up, while Michael finally let himself lean against a wall, no longer having to lug the giant shell around, "We really should get out of here though, with that kind of impact on a ship this old, the place might collapse in on itself any minute."

Brody nodded, "I'll go scour the ship anyone else and evacuate the place."

"Hello? Testing. Anyone there?" came a disembodied voice from a pipe in the wall.

"Who the hell is that?" Michael eyed the pipe suspisciously.

"It's Jude," Doc explained, but Michael silently shook his head in confusion.

"The actor…" Doc tried to elaborate.

"Who?" Michael stared.

"Hammie's brother?"

"He has a brother?" Michael looked shocked.

Doc sighed, "The fruitcake pansy."

"Well why didn't ye say so in the first place?" Michael finally beamed with understanding as he stepped forward and grabbed the pipe, yelling into it, "Hey there, ye yellow-livered, frill-wearin', boy-chasin' piece of rainbow-colored crap, how ye doin'? Need some help? The Doc and meself already took care of one fishman each!"

"Oh, were we counting?" the pipe calmly replied, "I wasn't aware. Let's see… By my count I got nine, including the first mate swordfishman."

"Bloody son of a mother-!" Michael stepped away from the pipe cursing as Brody took over.

"Hello, Jude?"

"Is that our fishy damsel in distress? Good show! You were my dear brother's main objective, you know," the pipe said happily.

"Er, thanks," Brody was unsure whether to be flattered that he was the 'main objective' or to be insulted to be called a 'damsel in distress', but either way, there were more important things to worry about, "Listen, not including me or your people there should be seventeen more on the ship. We need to get everyone off the ship before it collapses or worse."

The pipe responded thoughtfully, "I see, so we're playing the stalwart hero who saves his enemy's life even after their climactic duel. Okay, I think I can get my motivation for that. The only one still with me is the swordfishman, the others were swept out of the ship when we crashed."

"And we have two with us," Brody counted.

"Based on what I learned from the swordfishman, I think my dear brother managed to get five more off the ship before it sank, as well as himself," the pipe continued.

"That leaves one. By any chance was one of yours a creepy crab fishman with an annoying accent?" Brody asked.

"No, I'm fairly certain that sort of character would stand out more. Hold on, there's something going on outside," Jude interrupted his train of thought as he noticed movement from beyond one of the ship's portholes, "You said one was left, right?"

"Should be," Brody affirmed, going over the math in his head to make sure no one was left.

"Well, outside, besides the other strange phenomena, there seems to be four," Jude relayed, "One is our chef, another is the young lady. There's what looks like a giant dismembered crab on the ground and one more rather large fellow… Ah, that must be your friend Kitsushi, am I correct?"

Terror suddenly washed over Brody's face, "K-Kitsushi's back already?"

"Hey, for those of us without a glossary, what's a Kitsushi?" Michael asked, growing bored.

"He's the other… I mean now the only captain of the Tiburones Gemelos. I have to go! Wendy's in danger!" Brody immediately charged off before anyone could stop him.

"Oi, get back here and carry these arseholes ye lazy, good-for-nothing…" Michael yelled at the now vanished Brody. Sighing, Michael turned to the jellyfishman who was slowly hobbling out of the infirmary, "What's so special about this guy?"

Mambo grimly explained, "Before the incident, the Tiburones Gemelos were commanded by two captains who shared equal authority: Brody, a pure great white shark fishman, and Kitsushi, a mixed breed, half-bull shark and half-fox shark."

"Look, I skipped marine biology, as well as most o' schoolin', so what's that supposed to mean?" Michael scoffed at the benefits of higher education.

Mambo sighed, trying to find the best way to explain, "As you've probably noticed by now, every fishman takes on characteristics of a particular fish species. Swordfish, jellyfish, etc. The shark fishmen are on average stronger than the rest of fishmen. But Kitsushi is more than that even. Bull sharks are large, strong, and aggressive even by shark standards, and Kitsushi has all of that in the spades."

"Okay, so what's a fox shark?"

"Also called the long-tailed thresher shark, the fox shark has a sharp tail as long as the rest of its body that is uses to stun prey. There are stories about fox sharks decapitating fishermen's head in one blow. Now take the best traits of both species of shark, mix them together, add the natural boost from being a fishman, not to mention he's as proficient at fishman karate as Brody if not more so, and you might get some idea of what Kitsushi is capable of."

Michael slowly processed the information in his head, "So yer basically sayin' this Kitsushi fella is stronger in every aspect than Brody…"

"Yes," Mambo continued.

"And Brody just left to go fight the big, scary bastard…"

"Yes."

"And probably get his arse kicked?"

"I'm afraid so…" Mambo said grimly.

Michael practically exploded in excitement, grinning widely like a kid on the way to the circus, "Well what are we waitin' for? We'll miss the big show! Come on, Doc, help me move these sad sacks o' chum."

"There's a problem with that, Michael…" Doc said sheepishly.

"What?" Michael turned back to Doc to see him suddenly deflate like a balloon. Nearly instantly, all of his muscle mass was gone replaced by the skinny, lanky, slouching Doc of before, who suddenly collapsed backwards against the wall, utterly without energy.

"Heh, sorry, I had to mix some of my medications in order to get out of there," Doc apologized.

Michael punched Doc over the head, if for no other reason than because he could, "Why the bloody hell would ye do somethin' like that? Ye told me ye couldn't predict or handle the side effects of mixin' yer meds!"

"Yeah, I know… But what's done is done. I can't even really move," Doc tried to shrug, but even that took effort, "You're going to have to find a way to get all three of us out of here."

Michael cocked an eyebrow, "And what if I were to just leave ye here to rot?"

Doc weakly smiled, "Then we can't very well settle our bet now, can we?"

Michael twitched, wanting to call Doc's bluff or at least come up with a witty comeback, but could only curse loudly at his predicament, "… DAMNIT!"

* * *

Hammie made his way through the inland forests of Jaggerjaw Island, pushing aside brush, trying to follow a path that was currently indistinguishable from the rest of the forest. Nonetheless, he was certain he was retracing his steps from earlier. _All right, if I remember the path Wendy took us earlier correctly, the bay should be right…_ Finally, the brush cleared to reveal…

…the ghost town of Amity Village. "DAMNIT!" Hammie shouted in frustration. Taking a few deep breaths, Hammie started thinking aloud, "Well, two choices, either I can try around the coastline, which will just take longer, or…" Hammie walked into town and started knocking on door after door. Even though most of the place looked abandoned, he was sure he could find someone in one of the buildings, "Excuse me!" "Hello?" "Anyone there?" A block later, he was starting to give up. Either all the buildings were abandoned, or he was being avoided.

"_Over here_!" Hammie looked in the direction of the sharp whisper to see a man, slightly younger than Hammie, with the very beginnings of a beard waving him from a building some ways down. Hammie quickly went over to ask for direction when the man yanked him inside, "Get out of the street! I don't know who you are, so you must not be from Jaggerjaw. How you got here, I'm not sure, but if the fishmen find you, then-"

Hammie interrupted, "Look, I'm kind of in a hurry, and I already got the crash course on 'Tragic Island History' so if you could just point me in the direction of Jaggerjaw Bay I'll be going."

The man's eyes widened in terror, "Are you insane? They'll kill you for going near their fortress!"

Hammie nodded, "That's the impression I got, yes. Hey, it's the middle of the day, shouldn't you be out working or something?"

"We can't, we're under quarantine ever since their boss Kitsushi ordered the town under martial law. We're only allowed to work during certain hours determined by them. Something about minimizing contact with humans. The rest of the time we're not allowed to leave our homes, so the only people are working are people like Daisy the innkeeper and Vaughn the bartender. Oh, sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm the mayor, Quint, by the way," While he spoke, Quint quietly pulled out two chairs and started pouring some tea for the two of them, which Hammie gladly accepted. The chairs were old and dented, but Hammie could tell they used to be of fine quality. The room was dark except for what little light leaked from between the boards on the windows. It felt more like a shelter than an actual home, but that was probably a more accurate description.

"Sounds dull. I don't know what I'd do if I had to spend all my time cooped up like that."

"I spend time building secret passages between the buildings so at least we'll be able to see each other," Quint calmly sipped his tea, "It's not all bad, once you get used to the constant terror."

Hammie agreed, it'd be a worthwhile project, "I'd probably do something like that too. It'd be very useful for a pirate headquarters, for example. Hiding from the navy, maybe doing some guerilla warfare…"

Once again, panic struck Quint, startling Hammie and making him spill some of his tea, "Are you kidding me? The last thing I want is for the Tiburones Gemelos to find out about the tunnels! They'd kick us out of our homes! What then?"

Annoyed, Hammie started wiping up the tea on his shirt, "You know, from what I hear, you guys used to be okay with each other. Why can't it go back to the way things used to be?"

The mayor relaxed again from panic into depression, and Hammie made a mental note to not get startled next time the guy flipped out, "The Tiburones Gemelos used to be okay with us. They didn't attack or pillage us or anything. But after the plague… they didn't want anything to do with us. At first it was just isolation. They still sunk any government or rival pirate ship that came close, but that was more to protect their turf than ours. We still had to supply them, but that involved dropping off packages in the middle of the street and leaving them for the fishmen to inspect. Then they would inspect the goods to make sure nothing was infected."

"But if the plague was taken care of, why bother?" Hammie asked.

Quint shook his head, "They didn't want to take a chance. They didn't know whether or not we could possibly infect them with anything. Frankly, while I haven't seen anyone with symptoms for a long while, I can't be sure the disease is completely gone either."

"I think a couple years without so much as a symptom might be a sign that it's safe to go outside. I mean, I'm no doctor, but-" Hammie started before Quint jumped up like he was stung by a bee, making Hammie spill his tea just as he was about to take another sip.

"SSHH! Don't use the D-word!" Quint's eyes darted around the room like the paranoid maniac Hammie was making him out to be, "It's taboo… Ever since a D-word came to our island and spread a plague with his magic voodoo medicine powers," Any doubts Hammie had about the guy's credibility were now confirmed.

Hammie rubbed his temples as he wiped up the second mess on his shirt, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it a doctor who treated the sick from that plague?"

"Well, yes, but…" Quint sheepishly admitted.

Hammie quickly continued, "And wasn't said doctor also one of the fishmen you're so afraid of?"

"Um…" This time Quint had no response planned.

"So pretty much all the village does is cower in their homes away from fishmen, doctors, ghosts, sunburn, and general boogeymen?"

Quint indignantly retorted, "I prefer to think of it as being cautious. There aren't as many of us left as you'd think. Being afraid makes you live longer."

Hammie's patience grew thin, "No, it makes you survive longer. You haven't lived since before all these disasters started happening. You're just waiting to die."

"You sound just like Wendy," Quint's voice morphed into anger, not violent, but into a weak, indignant anger, like a chihuahua demanding attention from a pack of wolves, "Always going on about how we can make things better by just working hard. Well, let me tell you something, working hard didn't save our parents from the plague! It didn't stop the fishmen from making us prisoners in our own town! And it won't let a bunch of scared villagers fight off a bunch of big, strong fishmen pirates!" Hammie put his tea down, giving up on finishing the drink. His massive figure caused Quint to go into panic mode again, "W-what are you going to do?"

"I'm off to the bay," Hammie apathetically replied as he walked to the door, "If you're not going to tell me where the bay is, I'll find it on my own. The island can't be that big. You're not going to fix anything by staying holed up in here."

"Wait!" Against his better judgment, Hammie stopped in Quint's doorway and turned, "The road forks just before entering the forest. Take the east path along the edge. That's the fastest way to the bay," Hammie nodded silently in response, "Are you going to kill them? That would fix our problem really quickly!"

"You don't fix something by breaking it some more."

"So what, you're just going to ask them nicely to apologize?" Quint asked sarcastically.

Hammie turned one last time, his annoyance replaced with the usual friendly look on his face, "I'm just going to go help a friend in need," With that, Hammie left the small building, and walked out of town, down the path that Quint had recommended, picking up the pace as he went, not sure how much time he had left. _So Kitsushi's the guy in charge since Brody was deposed. Maybe it was that annoying talky-one who sank my ship, but he's responsible for all this, so he's the one who owes me a new ship._

* * *

At the bottom of Jaggerjaw Bay,

Metal shards flew everywhere, all three swords shattered into useless broken handles in one strike. But that wasn't all that was broken, as a blood spurted through a deep gash that ran through the entirety of Takashi's torso. The swordsman slowly fell, dumbfounded at the reality of the situation. _I… I lost… in one move… _He, and the fragments of three swords, fell to the ground and remained motionless.

"TAKASHI!" Wendy screamed, now all alone.

"I told you, you weren't ready. Don't you dare gripe at me. I gave you plenty of chances to back off," Kitsushi scoffed and wiped the blood off his leg, "Now then, where was I? Oh yeah."

"Please, Kitsushi, I-" Wendy begged.

"No," Kitsushi coldly stated, "You already used up your one freebie. Who knows, maybe whatever kind of spell you got on Brody will fade once you're dead," Kitsushi's cold stare heated into bestial anger as he raised his leg for the execution, "This time I finally get to avenge Linda!"

"**HYDRO-KEN**!" Suddenly, a blast of water slammed into Kitsushi, knocking him to the side. Kitsushi kept his ground, but it was enough to at least delay him, as he turned to see a beat-up Brody standing just outside the crashed pagoda.

Kitsushi's eyes narrowed to a cold stare again, "Well the prodigal captain returns, and you already managed to do all this damage to the Tiburones Gemelos. You truly have no remaining loyalty to us, do you?" he spat with disgust.

"Kitsushi," There was regret, but also determination in Brody's voice, "You want her, you'll have to go through me first." Brody purposefully stepped forward, never losing his fighting stance.

The larger fishman cracked his neck and approached Brody as well, "Fine by me. I got no problem executing one traitor before the other."

_To be continued._


	14. The True Captain, Part 2

_Five years ago,_

_In the town of Amity, a crowd of scared villagers huddled across from a crowd of fishman pirates, their mayor, and older man, at the front of the crowd, "Fishman pirates this time? Oh please, just take what you want and leave us in peace! Don't kill us!" begged the mayor, eager to quickly appease whatever demands might be required._

_What he got was not the reaction he expected. Sure, their leader, a larger blue fishman, bared his sharp, jagged teeth, but he did so while smiling and laughing, "You got it all wrong, old timer. The Tiburones Gemelos ain't here to cause trouble. Just the opposite in fact."_

"_Huh?"_

"_We know a lot of pirates and marines give you guys trouble on a regular basis, so we want to help out. We'll protect the village so you can live a little easier, and all we ask in exchange is that we be allowed to set up a base on this island. Well, that and a few supplies you can spare would be nice."_

_The mayor tried to process this information with demands from pirates in the past, "So you're setting up shop and demanding tribute? Our women as well?"_

_The fishman leader was calm, and, although the mayor could have sworn he was just imagining it, actually seemed friendly, "HA! No way! As far as supplies I'm just talking about whatever you have a surplus of. You probably already produce far more stuff than you need to supply the village so you can pay tribute to pirates and marines, we just ask that you pay us what you think is fair. Heck, if we can salvage any goods or treasures from ships we sink, we'll even pay you in that."_

_The mayor was still skeptical, "And what could you possibly gain out of a boondock little island like this?"_

_"Hey, don't sell yourselves short. The reason you've got so much trouble with pirates and corrupt marines is because of how close you are to the Grand Line. You've got the location down and the resources available, all you need is someone to protect you. As for what we got out of this, I'd say a base and some goods is a fair deal on our part. But you're right in that we have an ulterior motive," the fishman explained, as the mayor prepared himself for the awful truth, "What we want is to try for humans and fishmen to get along for once, even if it starts out on only one island."_

"_And if we were to refuse?" said the mayor, deciding to test the temperament of their new 'partners.'_

_The fishman shrugged, "Then we'd be on our way and make our pitch somewhere else. No harm, no foul." The mayor glanced around the crowd of fishman and they did all seem to be in agreement._

"_It sounds too good to be true… But I guess if you were truly here to harm us you wouldn't need to con us to do so. We acc-" The mayor reached out to shake the hand of the fishman leader when suddenly a high-pitched voice yelled out._

"_HOLD IT!" Emerging from the roof of a nearby building, a young girl and two similarly aged cohorts proudly stood as the girl fired a slingshot at the fishman, getting a very lucky strike._

"_AGH!" the fishman roared in pain._

"_That's what you get for attacking Jaggerjaw you filthy pirates!" the girl stood proudly, lowering her slingshot so she could grab the cigarette from her mouth. _

"_Little brat got me right in the eye!" complained the fishman._

"_And there's more where that came from!" boldly proclaimed the girl, "Mayor, don't listen to them! They're just no-good, greedy, stinky pirates!" _

"_Why you little-!" the fishman tried to go after the girl before another fishman, even larger than he, in fact the only fishman larger than him, blocked his path_

"_Calm yourself, Brody. Don't let the pranks of one human child put our goal at jeopardy here," the larger fishman calmly stated, keeping stoic and unemotional until a small rock pegged him in the back of his head. "COME A LITTLE CLOSER AND TRY THAT AGAIN YOU WHELP!" Finally deciding they'd had enough, the three kids vanished off the roof of a building, but before Brody and Kitsushi could go after them, something else knocked them both on the head with a loud KONK sending them to the ground._

_Standing behind the two prone shark fishmen was a young woman hardly distinguishable from a human if not for her gills, webbed hands, and slightly discolored skin, "Sorry about that, mayor. I know they seem ferocious and hot-tempered, but… okay, well they are, but their offer is genuine, and they won't hurt any of the villagers, even if they do get pegged in the eye with a slingshot," the fishwoman apologized to the mayor before the scene could get any worse, "I'll make sure to that, won't I Brody?"_

"_Yes, dear," sheepishly replied the still prone shark fishman._

_The mayor watched the scene in confusion, unsure of how to react, "I see… and who is the captain here?"_

_The fishwoman smiled, "Both of these lugs actually. We're called the Tiburones Gemelos for a reason."_

"_And what is your function amongst the crew?" the mayor inquired._

"_The name's Linda. I don't really have a title, I just keep these guys in line. I guess you could say I'm the wind beneath their wings," the fishwoman smiled at some inside joke._

* * *

Brody and Kitsushi slowly approached each other until they were ten paces away. Both only barely managed to hold back their smoldering rage as they stared each other down. The two slammed their fists together simultaneously and slightly bowed, never breaking eye contact, the only sign of respect left between the two martial artists. As soon as the bow broke, they leapt towards each other, instantly going all out.

"Hundred Brick Fist!" Brody got the first swing off. He expected Kitsushi to block, but the larger fishman made no move to defend, Brody's fist colliding squarely into Kitsushi's face.

Despite the force of the attack, Kitsushi barely winced, the rest of his body ready to counterattack at Brody's fresh opening, "Hundred Brick Fist!" Kitsushi slugged Brody in the gut hard enough to knock him completely off his feet, throwing him several yards back, "You seem to have gotten weaker, Brody. That used to hurt more. The human's influence must be rubbing off on you.

* * *

_Two years ago,_

"_W-where am I?" Wendy was just waking up from the most horrible nightmare she'd ever had. She was in an unfamiliar bed with Mambo and Brody grimacing over her._

"_You're waking up from surgery," the jellyfishman doctor calmly explained, though he was choking back a great deal of sorrow._

"_Surgery?" Wendy's most recent memories came flooding back to her in the most violent way imaginable. She suddenly realized her nightmare might've been more than just that._

"_You needed a donor and you got one. At probably the last possible moment too if I might add," Mambo tried to sound optimistic, but all three knew the price that had been paid._

"_No… why… why would she do that?" Wendy grew more and more hysterical, not knowing what she should do, "Brody, I… I'm sorry."_

_Both of his fists were clenched to the point where they were slightly bleeding, and Brody avoided making direct eye contact with her, "Linda gave you something real special. If you waste it, I'll kill you myself," Brody angrily marched out of the room as the deep pit in Wendy's stomach sank even lower._

* * *

_Brody stared at the burning town hall in disgust, "This ain't right… Linda should get a proper burial. She saved everyone after all."  
_

_Mambo shook his head, "Not possible, mon. Da building's crawlin' wit' disease. Dis is da only way to try and stamp it out for good," the doctor turned to face the few remaining live patients who were only just now recovering. Only one was still conscious, "How ya feelin' Wendy?"_

_Wendy sat on one of the cots salvaged from the building, still traumatized from the experience, "Better…" she managed to squeak out, though that definitely wasn't how she was feeling._

"_I better start putting out the fire, last thing we want is for the village to burn down as well," Brody went off to gather ocean water, as Wendy sat in uncomfortable silence for a very long time._

* * *

Brody picked himself up off the bay floor, expecting Kitsushi to follow up with another attack, but looking up to see Kitsushi still a good distance away, but slowly closing in, walking with a zen-like stride.

"**Fishman Karate**…" Brody brought both hands behind his back and focused as small streams from the nearby wall of water gathered between his palms, growing into a sphere of swirling currents. When the water filled up the sphere enough to fill both his palms he launched it at Kitsushi, "…**Hydro-Ken**!"

Kitsushi didn't even flinch as he caught the sphere of water in one hand, eyeing it critically, "Your technique is flawless as usual, better than any of the Tiburones Gemelos including myself," Bringing his other hand forward around the water sphere, more streams of water were drawn in, growing the sphere even more from the size of a basketball to a beach ball, and altering the rippling smooth surface to a spiked, menacing texture, "But our slight difference in technique does not make up for our vast difference in power. **HYDRO-KEN**!" Kitsushi launched the attack back at Brody, the water splashing into him less like a water balloon and more like a mortar.

As Brody recovered from the attack, Kitsushi lunged forward this time, ramming his shoulder into Brody and hurling him straight into the wall of water. "There is no reason to continue this on dry land." Kitsushi quickly followed after.

* * *

_Twenty-two months ago,_

"_There you are. I've been looking all over for you," Brody approached Wendy, who stood on one of Jaggerjaw's cliffs, looking over the ocean towards the setting sun, "What are those?"_

"_My last pack of smokes. I thought they'd all been destroyed in the fire, but I found one last pack at the bottom of a dresser at home," Only recently could Wendy start talking normally again as she fingered the packet nostalgically, "You know, the first pirates I ever saw who came to the island were called the Smoke Pirates? Place smelled like an ashtray for weeks. They were the ones who took Mom. The entire island smelled like an ashtray for weeks afterward," Wendy paused but Brody didn't respond, "You'd think I'd hate the stuff, and I do, but I also thought if I smoked I'd be taken more seriously. That maybe smoking would toughen me up so one day I could fight the pirates. Instead they just made me sick," Wendy spat the last sentence into disgust. Suddenly, she reared her arm back and tossed the pack as far as she could, which, granted wasn't very far, but still made it into the ocean. Another staple of her past life was gone forever._

"_Wendy!" Brody exclaimed._

"_I'm done with that. I blew my first life, but Linda gave me a second chance," Wendy smiled and shook her head, "I know I'll never be able to live up to her, but maybe I can help. Maybe I can try to get the island working together again like she once did."_

_Brody sighed, "Wendy… You shouldn't throw those in the ocean, some of us live there you know."_

"_Eep!" Wendy suddenly went white._

* * *

Brody quickly regained his composure and readied himself as Kitsushi charged. "**Rising Thrust Kick**!" Brody's leg shot up at Kitsushi's chin, but the larger fishman brought one arm up to stop the attack. Which was fine, since Brody bounced off the block and spun around, bringing his other leg down on Kitsushi's head from above, "**Flaming Ax Kick**!" This time, the attack squarely connected with Kitsushi's skull, knocking Kitsushi just down enough to put him in range for Brody's arm to thrust into his opponent's face, "**Exploding Palm Bomb**!"

Once again, Kitsushi managed to counter the attack with his own, bringing his own palm to meet Brody's head-on. The force created a sickening crack in both fishmens' arms as they both recoiled from the pain.

Kitsushi was the first to recover though, as he instantly launched forward, "Come on, Brody, this is the level I'd expect from a novice, not a true fishman karate practitioner!" Kitsushi swam in close before all four of his limbs went into an aggressive stance, "For example, **Fishman Karate Secret Technique: Davy Jones Locker**!" Kitsushi launched both his arms and both his legs into a blurring display of punches, jabs, and kicks.

Defending with his arms or legs was useless for Brody, as they were just as much targets as the rest of him were, each strike feeling like a rail spike being driven through his body so many times he couldn't keep count until he was completely numb from the blinding pain.

* * *

_Twenty months ago._

"_Um…. Hi?" The two fishmen turned around to see Wendy nervously holding a basket. Wendy could feel the daggers from glaring eyes._

"_What do you want?"_

"_Er… I just thought…" Wendy nervously searched for the right words before taking a deep breath and putting on as bright and cheery of a face as possible, "Are you hungry? I made cupcakes! And there's a ton of them so there's plenty to go around." _

_The fishmen scoffed, "So suddenly the brat who's hated us from the moment we arrived on the island wants to give us baked goods?"_

_Wendy tried to redirect the conversation, "Um… If you'd rather, you could take the whole basket. I could just make more."_

_Without asking, one of the fishman snatched one of the baked goods. It was spongy and kind of mushy, and had unidentifiable black bits inside, "They look disgusting. Probably are coming from someone like you." Wendy winced, unable to respond._

_One of the other fishman joined in, "Yeah, if they aren't already poisoned, they'll probably just make us sick," the fishman knocked the basket out of Wendy's hands as the baked goods fell to the dirt. The fishmen then unapologetically walked away, speaking amongst themselves, "Damn humans, if it weren't for them Linda would still be alive…"_

_Wendy fell to her knees, trying to catch her own emotions before they could show, "Okay, happy thoughts, not gonna cry. Happy thoughts, not gonna cry."_

"_Hey," Suddenly, Brody approached her. It was unclear whether or not he had seen what just happened, and he gave no indication as such, "These free game?" Before Wendy could answer, he scooped the entire dirty, mushy mess and ate them all in one big bite, "Delicious."_

_Wendy looked on in astonishment, "Y-you're sure? They taste all right?"_

"_Best I've ever… Erk…" Brody suddenly cupped his mouth and stomach as his skin was turning greener than usual._

_Five minutes later…._

"_I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. I thought I followed the recipe exactly," Wendy sat outside the outhouse apologizing for her baking fiasco._

"_No, really, they're great!" Brody reassured Wendy, "Taste even better coming up than going down."_

* * *

When the feeling returned to his limbs, Brody darted backward. He needed a little bit of room for this. Swinging both of his arms around, the currents started flowing to his whim, "**Fishman Karate: Roaring Sea Lion**!" The water swirled around from a whirlpool into a giant, solid maw of water, line with large teeth as large as Brody himself. Brody's attack violently clamped down on Kitsushi as the ocean around him became obscured by the splash of water and the red mist that permeated the water.

Brody stayed back and watched to see how much damage his attack caused, only for Kitsushi to burst through the red mist, only superficially cut up. "Better," the larger fishman stopped only inches away from Brody, the weakened fishman too startled to react, "But not enough."

* * *

_Eighteen months ago,_

"_You shure been shpendin' 'n awf'l lot o' time with that human girl…"_

_Brody eyed the fishman who had trouble eyeing him back, "You're drunk. Go home and sleep it off," Brody went back to his drink in the village bar, trying to ignore the drunkard._

"_Jush doeshn' sheem right by me. I know we're all about toleransh and shtuff, but it sheemsh yer takin' it way too far," the drunkard continued, probably not as aware of his situation as he should've been._

_Brody slammed his drink down, muscles tensing, "You'd better choose your next words very carefully." _

"_Heh, but maybe she'sh makin' it up to you in other waysh," the fishman smiled, unaware he was offending anyone, "Gotta tell me, ish she ash good ash Linda in the shack?"_

_That finally made Brody snapped as he grabbed the drunkard and threw him out the bar doors, restraining himself from outright killing the drunk fishman, "You don't get to talk about Linda or Wendy that way! Ever! Now get the hell out of here before I break more than your jaw!"_

* * *

_Elsewhere, the son of the late mayor and therefore current mayor by default of Amity village, approached Wendy, who made her rounds for the day delivering water, "Wendy,"_

_Despite his worry look, Wendy beamed back at him as if she hadn't a care in the world, "Yeah, what's wrong, Quint?"_

"_Listen, the town and I, we're worried about you," Quint nervously began._

"_Worried? Why? I'm healthy as a horse! Couldn't be better!" Wendy smiled and flexed a nonexistent muscle on her skinny arm to prove a point._

"_It's not that. It's just… well… you've been spending an awful lot of time with that fishman," Quint knew he was treading on awkward territory but continued._

"_Well, he lives on this island too, you know," Wendy stated matter-of-factly. _

"_It's just that… that fishman…"_

_Wendy interrupted, "Brody. His name's Brody. Buh-Roh-Dee. Say it with me now."_

"_This is serious!" Quint yelled, startling Wendy, "I mean, sure things are calm right now, but can't you feel the tension in the air? Any day now, the fishmen are going to decide we're not worth it anymore, and if we're lucky they'll just take everything we own. If you keep hanging around the fishmen… I don't know what they'll do to you."_

_Wendy's shiny demeanor remained unphased, "Look. Brody's a good person, and frankly he's the best person on this island! He's saved us from countless pirates who otherwise would have pillaged and killed us, and really he's the only person making an effort to get things back to normal around here."_

"_Wendy, things will never be back to normal. Can't you feel it? Any time a fishman walks into town, including Brody, everyone's either hiding in their homes or shifting their eyes. Everyone's waiting for the other to make the first move. One day, one of those fishman is going to snap and kill a lot of people."_

_Before he could continue, Wendy's hand streaked across his face with a loud slap. For a few seconds, Wendy showed an indignant anger, a rare emotion for her these days, before her face morphed back to an optimistic concern for the slowly forming bruise shaped like her hand on Quint's face._

"_Oh, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have let myself get that angry! Please forgive me!" Wendy bowed in apology, but Quint was already too shaken to respond. It didn't take much to do that to Quint nowadays though, "Anyway, don't worry about stuff too much, you'll get gray hairs. If we just keep working hard then everything will get better. It'll be slow, but trust me!" The blue fishman appeared across the street and Wendy ran off to meet him, "Oh, there's Brody. Guy spends so much time helping me out I wonder how he finds time to captain his crew. Oh well, see ya!" _

"_Wendy…" Quint could only watch, afraid of what might be to come._

* * *

"**Twin Shark Lariat**!" Kitsushi spun around mid-water, his two tree-trunk-sized arms outstretched and swirling as Brody ducked under at the last possible second, Kitsushi's lower body exposed.

Brody's leg shot forward at a crooked angle, his leg bent at the knee and rigid. "**Frog Leg Strike**!" His leg struck Kitsushi's abdomen with a loud crack.

Brody's brief successful strike ended when the Kitsushi's arm wrapped around Brody's leg. The larger fishman quickly maneuvered behind his opponent, grappling Brody and cutting off his arms and legs from any movement, "**Coral Corral**!" Kitsushi immediately jetted upward, Brody in tow, before rocketing back down towards the ocean floor. "**Fishman Karate: Dive Bomb Suplex**!"

But this was one of the few moves Brody knew how to counter, even if Kitsushi himself didn't realize until it was too late. Before Kitsushi knew it, Brody's arms popped and twisted around the very limbs trying to imprison him, and suddenly Kitsushi was too entangled to break free even with his superior strength, leverage working against him. Brody's technique finally prevailed over Kitsushi's strength, and that was when Brody started spinning mid-attack, "**Fishman Karate Secret Technique: Dive Atomic Bomb Buster**!" Brody couldn't afford to let Kitsushi escape the attack, so both dove head first into the ocean floor, the only thing bracing Brody was Kitsushi's body being slammed first into the ocean floor.

* * *

_Sixteen months ago,_

"_Whew, it's been a long day," Brody and Wendy were sprawled out on the cliff overlooking the ocean, watching the sun set. _

"_Yeah, and things are only getting worse," Brody scowled even as the two relaxed._

"_Don't say that! Things will turn around… right?" Although she tried to sound optimistic, not even Wendy could be sure of her words. The two sat in silence overlooking the water for a while, before Wendy broke the silence again, "Brody?"_

"_Hm?"_

"_I want to ask you a question, but I'm afraid of the answer."_

"_Ask. If I don't feel like answering it, I won't," Brody said casually._

"_Why do you hang around me so much?"_

_Brody already knew where this conversation was headed. It was something he'd been expecting for a long time, but he still didn't have the answer. Not the whole one, anyway. "That's easy," he lied as he searched for any answer, "You need someone to protect you. Especially with the fishmen the way they are now. And the other villagers certainly aren't going to have your back." His words weren't untrue, but they definitely weren't the entirety of the truth._

"_Brody… do you hate me?"_

_Brody turned to face Wendy, appalled, "Of course not! Why would you ask something like that?"_

"_All the villagers think I'm crazy and going to get myself killed, and all the fishmen hate me. Why should you be any different?"_

"_Don't lump Brody Martin in with those simple-minded tools," he said boldly._

"_But… weren't you… closer to Linda than the others?" Wendy hesitated with her words. They both knew this was a sensitive topic for either of them._

_Brody sighed, summoning up the courage to try and tell the truth, even if he wasn't sure what it was, "Look… to be honest, part of me blamed you for a while. But Linda wouldn't have wanted you to be ostracized. You were closer to her than anyone, not me," there was no anger or blame in Brody's voice, only faint sorrow and regret, "That time was a bad time for all of us, and no one was the same after it. You're not crazy. It's everyone else that's lost it. I know it's tough, but I think Linda would be proud of what you've done so far."_

_Wendy smiled, "Thanks, I needed that."_

_Brody grinned in response, "Now shut up, kiddo, you're ruining a perfectly good sunset," The two sat in comfortable silence for a while until Wendy's head leaned into Brody, startling the fishman, "Hey, you ever hear of personal space?" It was then he noticed Wendy had fallen asleep on his chest, "Oh…" He decided not to try and wake her, and instead just watched the sunset, the human girl cuddling close in her sleep, Brody simultaneously feeling very comfortable and awkward. "Why does this feel right? Nothing's ever felt right since… since Linda." Brody could hear Wendy's breaths and feel her chest rise and fall. "I wonder. I wonder if I'm hearing Wendy or Linda breathe."_

_To be continued…_

**Author's Notes:** I'd like to officially apologize for the gratuitous amounts of flash back. There was a bulk sale on italic fonts and tragic backstories, and I now have to use it all up before it goes bad. :P I also apologize because next chapter is more of the same. This whole fight/flashback combo was originally going to be one chapter, but it ended up way too long. Don't worry, this is the only fight I plan on doing in this style for a very long time, if not ever again.


	15. The True Captain, Part 3

Wendy watched with horror, the fight filtered through the wall of water like a particularly violent movie. At this point she could only barely stand as she walked over to Takashi. The swordsman seemed to be alive despite the large, deep gash in his torso that made it seem he should fall into two pieces at any second. Takashi himself showed no emotion or even sign of consciousness as he lay on the ocean floor. Wendy's hopes sank deeper. Everyone in some way was trying to protect her and getting terribly injured. She could only wonder about the others' fates...

As if on cue, a loud crash sounded from the beached ship. Wendy turned to see one of the windows explode off along with the frame and several feet of wall around it. A cart full of immobile bodies followed by a very exhausted Michael tumbled out of the hole in the wall and onto the ocean floor. After hitting the ground face-first, Michael stood up and dusted himself off all the while letting off a string of curses Wendy had never even heard of before.

She hobbled to them as fast as she could to note that the cart of bodies were in fact the Doc as well as two of the fishmen, the jellyfishman Mambo and a bandage-wrapped snail woman. Wendy looked over Doc with concern, circumstances making it awkward to address the two fishmen, "Are you all right?"

Doc rolled his head so he could face Wendy and smiled reassuringly, "I'm fine, really. I'm just a little numb from the neck down. Say, would you mind just taking a small, metal flask from my left pocket and bringing it to my lips for me?"

"Oh, no ye don't!" Michael shot to his feet, still sore and exhausted from carting everyone around, and snapped up the flask from Doc before anyone else could touch it, "Ye already paralyzed yerself. I'm officially cuttin' ye off." Michael opened the flask and took a deep swig before spitting it out, "What the hell is this? Tastes like friggin' poison!"

"Nice guess! Cyanide's one of the ingredients at least. Gives it a nice, rich almondy-taste. It's a real pain to prepare it so it doesn't instantly kill you though. I wouldn't recommend any for you, at least not without a stomach pump nearby."

"Blech," Michael tossed the flask aside, Doc quietly weeping in response, "This is why we don't let ye bartend, Doc. Anyway," Michael turned to Wendy, fuming, "Where the bloody hell is that scumbag fish-boyfriend of yers, anyway? Bastard made me cart the lot of 'em here on me own!"

"He's fighting Kitsushi! Please, you have to help him somehow!" Seemingly ignoring the context and tone of Michael's question, Wendy pointed over to beyond the veil of water to where Kitsushi and Brody were trading blows.

Michael took a glance over at the two fishmen exchanging blows, thought about his chances against either at the moment since both of his pistols were out of commission, and crossed his arms pouting, "I'll wait."

Wendy facefell as Michael's eyes wandered over to Takashi, "Hey, ye doin' all right there?" The swordsman gave no response.

"He got that way fighting Kitsushi!" Wendy tried to drum up some concern from Michael, or anyone, with little success.

Michael glared down at the swordsman disapprovingly, "Get up ye friggin' pansy, I ain't carryin' ye as well!"

"_I… lost…_" were the only weak words to escape Takashi's lips.

"He's bleeding out!" Wendy shouted, before turning to the still paralyzed Doc, "Can you fix him up?"

Doc rolled his head over, looking at Michael and Takashi, "Hey, Mike! Administer his medication for me, will ya?"

Michael grinned, "Aye aye, Doc!" Wendy was more confused at the fact that Michael was willing to take a command from anyone, until Michael kicked Takashi in the ribs, "Ye gonna let a lil' scratch like this keep ye down, ye wuss?" Wendy stood flabbergasted.

A moment passed, and slowly Takashi sat up despite his wounds, this time turning Wendy completely white, _"I… won't fall here…"_

"Are you nuts? He shouldn't be moving around in his condition!" Wendy exclaimed.

"Hey, who's the doctor here?" chided Doc, "Besides, Takashi's an all-natural kind of guy. Refuses any form of modern medicine. Some spiritual belief or something that, as his doctor, I'm morally obligated to follow. Don't worry, he'll be fine," As Doc reassured Wendy, Takashi was slowly getting to his feet, only to collapse to his knees again, blood pouring out of the massive gash in his torso, "Then again, that cut _is_ pretty deep. Maybe you could help bandage him up some." Wendy quickly complied.

Before she could ask any more questions, another noise from the ship caught her attention, this one the sound of metal cutting through metal. She turned to see a deep gash in the side of the ship appear and water starting to leak out of one of the few water pockets left on the ship. Two more quick gashes left a triangle in the side of the ship as a cleanly cut hole burst open and water flooded out. Fortunately there wasn't nearly enough water spilling out to even reach Wendy and the rest. Instead, she saw a proud Jude striking a pose as he surfed something out of the ship. Upon closer inspection, she saw that Jude was surfing on top of a floating fishman body. Xiphias slowly drifted along the spilling water until he dragged to a stop, Jude maintaining his pose for a few moments even after the unconscious Xiphias lay prone in the sand, everyone who could watching him in awkward silence.

Finally, Jude broke the pose, looking annoyed, "What, no applause?"

"I'm paralyzed," Doc offered.

"I don't bloody give a damn," Michael scoffed.

Jude's eyes turned to Wendy, who, unsure of how to respond, slowly started softly clapping, prompting Jude to bow, "Thank you, thank you!" Michael booed, but Jude ignored him as he gracefully leapt off Xiphias's body and landed gracefully on the sand, "So, where do we stand?"

"At the bottom of the ocean," Doc replied without missing a beat, "I know. I'm trying not to think about it either."

"I take it swimming to the surface isn't an option at this point?" Jude asked.

"Doubt it. Brody and the big guy are going at it in the water. Doesn't matter where you swim, if you're in the water, you're likely to get caught in the crossfire," Doc reasoned.

"I see. How droll," Jude sighed, "I suppose all we can do is enjoy the show as we wait for the next scene then."

Michael shook his head disapprovingly at everything Jude did and was, "How do ye live with yerself?"

The actor smiled coldly in response, "The secret is bathing regularly. I know you've never tried it before, but trust me, it does wonders."

As the two traded quips and bickered, Wendy started praying for another miracle. This one wasn't working out so well.

* * *

_Fourteen months ago,_

"_W-what?" Wendy jumped as if a spider had suddenly attacked her._

_Now Brody was embarrassed, this wasn't the reaction he was hoping for, "I didn't think it was that outrageous. I mean everyone already thinks we're together, I just thought it might be a good idea to make it official."_

"_Brody…"_

"_We already spend most of our time together at is. We don't piss each other off. And I'm pretty sure we're both single and have been so for a while," Brody continued to desperately defend his stance._

_Wendy shook her head in response, "Everyone on the island is at our throats for spending time together already. You want to give them more of a reason to hate us?"_

"_Forget what other people think!" Brody shouted, "The villagers are cowards and my crew are idiots. They shouldn't get a say in this."_

_Wendy turned away, "It's impossible."_

"_Why?"_

"_Look, it's just impossible!" Wendy suddenly exploded, "It's one thing for fishmen and humans to get along with one another, but date? How would that even work? How could you even kiss me without biting my face off with those razor sharp teeth? It's not a matter of love, it's a matter of biology!" When she finally paused, the silence deafened the room, "I'm sorry… I really am. You're my best friend in the world, but something like that couldn't possibly happen," Wendy fled in a hurry, embarrassed by her words._

* * *

Brody was the first to break free from the rising mushroom cloud of sand and debris from the ocean floor, quickly darting a safe distance away and waiting for the dust to settle. He knew better than to assume any amount of damage on the part of his opponent. With Kitsushi as his opponent, that maneuver could have failed completely or it could have meant the end of the fight.

He was right to be defensive, as Kitsushi burst through the cloud straight towards Brody, his eyes having converted to slits as his animalistic rage was much more prevalent now.

"**RISING THRUST FOXTAIL KICK**!" Brody brought his arms up to block, but there was no blocking a full-powered kick from Kitsushi's oversized, well-honed legs. Kitsushi's leg shot up like a ballista, breaking Brody's guard with ease and shattering at least one bone in his forearm. But that was just the beginning, as Kitsushi quickly spun around, his leg striking Brody from above, "**FLAMING AX FOXTAIL KICK**!" Kitsushi gave new meaning to the name of the attack as it felt like an axe was set on fire then imbedded deep in Brody's spine. Blood poured from both wounds as Kitsushi's leg slammed him straight into the ocean floor.

But Kitsushi wasn't finished yet. Darting down to Brody who still reeled from the impact, the larger fishman spun around as he sank to Brody's level, "**BUTTERFLY FOXTAIL KICK**!" Both of Kitsushi's legs together struck with all the force and momentum Kitsushi had built up, crushing Brody's jaw against the ocean floor with far more force than any of Kitsushi's other attacks, Brody's teeth shattering into ivory flecks in the water.

* * *

_One year ago, today,_

_Upon seeing Brody, Wendy dropped the jug of water she was carrying, "B-Brody? What happened?"_

_Blood was streaming from Brody's mouth, and his entire jaw was bruised, bleeding, and sore. Even though it hurt like hell, he still smiled. "It's okay, really."_

_Wendy quickly rushed over to see if she could tend to Brody's pain, "It's not okay, you look like you went to a smoothie shop run by vampires! Who'd you get into a fight with this time?"_

_Brody shook his head calmly, "No, there wasn't any fight. Trust me. It only looks bad now because it's still healing, but this was something I decided."_

"_What?" Wendy asked confused._

"_You said that we couldn't be together because my shark teeth would be a hazard. Well, you were right," Brody grinned as wide as he could, revealing that his normally sharp, dagger-like shark teeth were filed to square, more human-esque shapes, "So I filed them down flat," It looked completely unnatural on a shark fishman like him, and his gums were puffy and sore._

"_You… you did that for me?" Wendy's eyes filled with tears._

"_Yup. Ow…" Brody flinched at seemingly nothing, "Still hurts to smile."  
_

"_You… you big, stupid lug!" Wendy cried as she pounded on his chest. _

"_So, can we be together now?" _

_Wendy bawled and continued punching Brody in the chest, "Of course, you dumb pinhead! I have to, or else you'll just find some other way to mutilate yourself! I love you too much to watch you try to do more stupid things to yourself over me!"_

"_You… love me?" Brody hadn't expected that much of a response._

"_Of course I love you! You've been there for me and protecting me even when I made things miserable for you! You stood up for me when no one else would! How could I not love you?"_

"_I… love you too," Brody smiled even wider than before, oblivious to the pain as the two hugged each other tightly._

_Wendy continued sobbing. When she did speak, despite her confession of love, there was still doubt in her mind, "Are you sure it's okay to be with someone like me? What about Linda?"_

"_That's in the past. It's time for us now," Brody reassured her._

"_I'm not sure if this is the right thing to do, but somehow I think this is what Linda would have wanted. I know I'll never measure up to you, but, at least for once, I'll be grateful for what I have, and what I have is you," Try as she might, Wendy couldn't help but cry tears of joy, as this was the only good to happen in her life for the past year._

* * *

Brody slowly pulled himself up, bone shards floating in the water, his vision turning red, and not just from his bleeding mouth. The smell of blood flooded his senses as the red mist filtered his vision into a sea of crimson.

"You're finally rid of those hideous, disgusting teeth," Kitsushi's voice was slowly being warped by Brody's blurring senses, "Now you can die with the superior jaws that nature blessed us with."

Brody could still see the bone shards in the water. He could see where the teeth had broken off and where its natural edges were. He could see where he personally filed down each tooth into a smooth harmless surface. It summoned a beast within him as a new set of teeth involuntarily protruded from his mouth, this set jagged and sharp like they were so long ago, not the filed down human-esque teeth that floated away in pieces.

Kitsushi calmly floated in place several feet away, even as Brody's pupils morphed into bestial slits and he bared the entire set of fresh teeth at Kitsushi, "Finally, you can bare some proper fangs like a true shark."

The enraged shark fishman launched at Kitsushi, teeth first. There was no rational thought left in him, only he and an enemy in his sights. His ferocity showed in his increased strength and speed as his arms and teeth launched in a flurry at the larger fishman.

His fishman karate was gone, these were all feral, animalistic swipes and attacks. For Kitsushi, it's not that they were hard to block or counter, it was that Brody's increased strength and speed was difficult to keep up with. But Kitsushi had his next attack planned, even before Brody grew his teeth back. He calmly waited, parrying each attack as it came. Without the focus of a martial art behind them, Brody lacked the subtlety and discipline to do anything but blindly attack, even as Kitsushi managed to grab and immobilize both of his arms. This, however, meant that Kitsushi had no way to stop the enraged fishman from sinking his teeth deep into Kitsushi's shoulder.

Still, Kitsushi kept from wincing, even as he let the pain flood his senses, his own eyes turning into feral slits like Brody's, "And now we come to the real difference between us, Brody. It's not simply our size or our difference in technique," Instantly, Kitsushi's leg shot straight up, jabbing Brody in the neck, forcing his jaws to let go. He let go of Brody's arms, but before he could react, both of Kitsushi's arms launched forward in a vicious strike at Brody's gut, thrusting him away, "But the fact that I can focus and direct my rage, where you still let them reduce you to a mindless beast!"

* * *

_Six months ago,_

_Brody stood before his fellow captain, who sat grimacing, glaring back at him, "What's this about, Kitsushi?" The rest of his crew eyed him warily from the edges of the room_

_It wasn't Kitsushi who responded, but the first mate Xiphias, who responded, "Some details regarding Linda's death have come to light." _

"_Such as?" Brody's eyes never broke contact with Kitsushi. Although Xiphias was his voice, these were Kitsushi's words, and if he was having Xiphias say them for him, Kitsushi must have not trused himself to be able to speak. Since they weren't in public, Brody knew this only meant Kitsushi was pissed off enough to snap at any moment. The staredown was just as much a confrontation as this meeting, but on a primal level only understood by the two sharkmens' instincts.  
_

_Xiphias nonchalantly continued, "According to Dr. Mambo's findings, the plague was most likely caused by a devil fruit user, which made it more easily treatable with seawater and seastone. As such, according to Mambo, while we can't be positive, there's a chance that no fishman was ever in danger or even capable of getting sick from the plague in the first place. This makes the circumstances of Linda's death questionable at best."_

"_Questionable?" Brody knew what was coming, and the insinuation brought out the beast in him as he instinctively destroyed a nearby chair with one arm, "I saw the syringe in her hand!"_

"_According to Dr. Mambo," Xiphias continued without even flinching even as a splintered leg zoomed past his head, "who saw the same thing you did, you saw Linda with an empty syringe in her hand and the human girl over her body."_

_Brody turned to the jellyfishman, eyeing him with a betrayed anger, "Mambo, how could you?"_

_Mambo averted his eyes in shame, "I never accused anyone, mon, I just present de medical facts."_

"_If Linda really was fatally ill, then we could accept that she might have taken her life early in order to save others. But if she truly was healthy, then that means foul play is a more likely scenario," Xiphias said._

"_But Linda said she was sick beforehand! Mambo, tell them!"_

"_I could never confirm dat. Linda never came to me for a diagnosis," Mambo tried to appear calm and impartial, but his tensed muscles gave away both his fear and his shame, "All I can say for certain is if she was sick, she wanted to be a donor, and that circumstances might have made her hysterical."_

"_Not to mention, the human girl and many of her fellow villagers would have died without a healthy donor. That gives her motive and opportunity. Place her at the scene of the crime and a lack of a written will or suicide note by Linda counts as evidence. That's enough for at least an investigation and a trial," Xiphias stated._

_The rest of the crew shouted in agreement, "Yeah, a trial!" "Bring her to court!" "We'll find out the truth!"_

"_I REFUSE!" Brody's roar silenced the crowd, his pupils turned to full feral slits. _

_This time it was Kitsushi who responded, though the rage he was holding back was apparent, "This is the will of the crew and myself, Brody. You can't go against it."_

"_Well, I'm captain too! And you don't want a trial, you want a lynching! So I'm using my position as captain and vetoing this load of crap right now! Anyone who wants to object has to bring it up with me personally!" Brody glanced around the room. No one was willing to step forward, not even Kitsushi. They were willing to accuse, but not to fight him yet. Satisfied that no one would follow through on their accusations, Brody silently stormed out of the ship._

* * *

_Wendy waited patiently for Brody on their usual hillside. Soon, she could hear his familiar footsteps approaching, "How'd your meeting go?" she turned to see a despondent Brody, scowling deep in thought, "Brody?"_

_Brody looked up, "This place really is going downhill. My own crew's not even listening to me anymore,"_

"_About what?" Wendy asked with dread.  
_

"_They," he didn't want to say it, but Wendy would find out sooner or later anyway, "They think Linda couldn't have committed suicide. That someone… killed her,"_

"_You mean they think I killed her?" Wendy softly deduced._

"_Yeah…"_

"_Well, it's basically true isn't it?" she spoke, not the reaction Brody expected._

"_What?"_

"_I killed her. If it weren't for me she'd still be alive. If I'd died sooner she wouldn't have gotten the chance to try and…" Wendy's voice quickly morphed into a blubbering sob, her guilt over her own life spilling forward._

"_Don't talk like that," Brody rushed forward and embraced Wendy before she could collapse, "It ain't your fault, Wendy. Don't you ever think that," Wendy sobbed for a bit before Brody spoke up again, "Let's go away for a while."_

"_W-what?" Wendy looked up in shock._

"_We're not doing much good here. My crew doesn't listen to me anymore, and all the villagers are afraid. If we're gone, the fishmen won't go postal every other day and maybe things will have a chance to go back to normal," Brody reasoned._

"_I don't know…" Wendy glanced at the ground. She'd never set foot off the island, never knew anything but her home._

"_Come on, Wendy. There's not much left here for us. In fact, day by day there's less. There's a whole world out there to enjoy, let's not waste our time where we're not wanted," Brody encouraged._

_Wendy weakly smiled, "Okay, but only because it's with you," she held Brody as tightly as she could, "I don't know what I'd do without you."_

* * *

Kitsushi proceeded to effortlessly bash Brody around the water, dashing just ahead of wherever Brody was launched to rebound him. If he were fully conscious, Brody might have been able to somehow counter, but in his bestial state, Brody could do nothing as Kitsushi pounded away at him, "But you can't even hear me any more in there, can you? All that's driving you is the violent, primal urge to beat me to a pulp. An urge that can never be fulfilled, because your obsession with the human has made you weak. You tried to leash your proud shark heritage, and now it can do nothing but run rampant, unleashed. For turning your back on your shark heritage, I can never forgive you!"

Kitsushi's legs spun vertically to gain momentum before smashing into Brody's side, knocking him back into the air dome, colliding with the earth and skipping a few yards in the sand. Something small and shiny flew from his person as he hit the ground and landed in front of the human spectators. Kitsushi followed soon after, emerging from the water and slowly walking forward.

"You know, the other fishmen don't understand your actions, but I do. I don't agree with them, but I understand, I really do," his rage subsided, at least for the moment, "You never meant to betray us. You just felt guilty over what happened to Linda. I get it, since the human got part of Linda in that operation, you feel like the human girl is all that's left of Linda, and that it's your job to protect her, since you couldn't protect Linda."

The others watched as the confrontation was seemingly ending. Doc glanced over at Wendy who could do nothing but stare at the sand in sorrow. Likely Kitsushi was voicing her deepest, darkest fears, but there was something else. Something else in Wendy's face as she bent down to pick up a small black box from the ground, one that fell from Brody when he collided with the ground.

"You're wrong," said an unexpectedly confident Brody, who slowly stood up, badly injured and pouring blood everywhere, but in control of his senses again.

* * *

_One month ago,_

"_Ergh… I should've known you'd mutiny!"_

_Kitsushi and the other fishmen gathered around as they just finished tossing Brody to the beach, bound in manacles. He had never seen it coming until he was already in shackles._

"_Not a mutiny, an impeachment," Xiphias stepped forward, once again speaking for Kitsushi, "A mutiny would imply the captain being overthrown, but we are still loyal to the true captain of the Tiburones Gemelos."_

"_True captain?" Brody was insulted, "The Tiburones Gemelos have always had two captains!"_

"_The crew by majority vote has determined that your judgment has been compromised and that you are no longer fit to lead us. Furthermore, your association with someone suspected of murdering a crew member, your harboring of said suspect, and your refusal to conduct a just investigation and trial, all lead to the bottom line: You've committed treason against the Tiburones Gemelos."_

_"Treason? How dare you!" Brody spat, outraged._

"_How dare us? You're the one who spends his nights with the human murderer. And don't deny that you were planning to flee the island with her. We know about your little crafts project on the other side of the island. Admit your crimes and you may receive a reduced sentence. You may even be pardoned as long as you agree for the real criminal to be prosecuted." _

_For them to refer to Wendy in such a manner only enraged Brody even more, but for the time being he suppressed his rage, slowly stood up even with his arms bound behind his back, and calmly replied, "As long as you guarantee Wendy stays out of this, I'll plead guilty to whatever you want."_

_There were murmurs and soft protests amongst the crew. Apparently, they had expected him to renounce Wendy first, "Brody, how far you've fallen. Very well. The crew is waiting."_

_Brody purposefully stated, "I, Ex-Captain Brody Martin, plead guilty to the charge of treason against the Tiburones Gemelos," The words hit him in the gut harder than any punch ever could, made him want to vomit, but still he retained his composure._

_Kitsushi stepped forward, and some of the fishmen involuntarily flinched, expecting a possible execution of their former captain. What Kitsushi did next surprised everyone. He sank his teeth into Brody's shoulder, where the jolly roger of the Tiburones Gemelos was tattooed, ripping off the emblem and leaving a bloody scar in its place, "I hereby sentence you and the human girl to exile. In order to give you time to secure yourself a vessel, you have one month to leave Jaggerjaw and then never come back. Until then, you will stay away from Jaggerjaw Bay and Amity Village." Kitsushi turned and headed back to the ship. He didn't even need to give the order for the rest of the crew to follow him, leaving Brody on the beach to nurse his bloody shoulder and ponder his fate._

* * *

Brody could barely stand at the moment, but even the immense pain couldn't stop him from smiling, "I loved Linda when she was alive. I still love her even now, but she's gone and I can't change that. At first, I blamed Wendy for her death, it's true. At first, I only stuck around Wendy because it was Linda's last wish: for me to protect her. I won't deny that.

"But over time, I'm not sure when it happened, I fell in love with her. Not because part of Linda was inside her. Not out of guilt. Not even because she was the only sane person left on an island full of paranoia and resentment,"

As he spoke, Wendy opened the small box, her eyes widening at the coral and pearl ring inside.

"My love for Wendy is true and genuine, completely separate from what I had with Linda, and if you asked me to explain why I'm in love with her I couldn't tell you, any more than any fool in love throughout the entire world could tell you why they're in love,"

"It might go against my 'shark nature', but I want to spend the rest of my life with Wendy, whether it's on or off the island,"

Brody weakly turned his head to face Wendy, "Wendy, I'm sorry. I wanted to give that to you under different circumstances, but it looks like now will have to do," Linda looked up, tears streaming down her face fiercer than ever before, "What do you say? Could you really love someone like me?"

Before she could answer, Kitsushi snarled, "You'd turn your back on everything we stand for, everything we've worked for? On me? On Linda? On the Tiburones Gemelos? On your heritage as a proud, great white shark fishman?"

Brody snapped back to face Kitsushi, as he and Wendy simultaneously screamed their reply, "**I DO**!"

Kitsushi's eyes turned completely feral again, this time his rage running rampant, not focused like before as his leg violently shot up, "You… BASTARD!"

Even if Brody had the strength to dodge, he couldn't or else Wendy would be hit, so he stood his ground as his life started flashing before his eyes, both the life he had previously and the life he could have started with Wendy.

But still no one noticed a soft, high-pitched noise quickly growing louder.

"**FOXTAIL-**" Kitsushi's leg started its descent just as a shadow enveloped Kitsushi's body and the soft sound finally grew audible, "_**EXECUTIONER!**_"

"aaaaaAAAAA_**AAAAA**_**!**" Something big crashed directly on top of Kitsushi, halting his attack completely.

When the dust cleared, Kitsushi was face-down in the dirt as something sprawled on top of him slowly stood up, rubbing his head in confused pain.

"Where'd all the water go?" asked a bewildered Hammie.

_To be continued…_

**Author's Notes:** Two chapters in one day! Hope this was worth all those flashbacks.


	16. The True Captain, Part 4

"_**FOXTAIL-**__" Kitsushi's leg started its descent just as a shadow enveloped Kitsushi's body and the soft sound finally grew audible, "__**EXECUTIONER!**__" _

"_aaaaaAAAAA__**AAAAA!**__" Something big crashed directly on top of Kitsushi, halting his attack completely. _

_When the dust cleared, Kitsushi was face-down in the dirt as something sprawled on top of him slowly stood up, rubbing his head in confused pain._

"_Where'd all the water go?" asked a bewildered Hammie._

* * *

Everyone stared dumbfounded at Hammie, who responded only by knocking some of the water out of his ear, shaking off the dizziness from his fall as he looked at his surroundings in confusion and awe, "This… was definitely not here earlier."

Finally, Jude couldn't help himself and started laughing and applauding, "Wonderful entrance, brother! Perfect dramatic timing!"

"Oh, hey, Jude!" Hammie smiled and waved, "Is everyone okay? You guys look pretty beat up."

Jude shrugged, "I think I might have broken a nail."

Hammie frowned, "Ouch, sounds painful. Maybe the Doc could take a look at it?"

"He's currently paralyzed. Also, the only thing keeping the psychotic chef from splitting into two is a layer of poorly applied bandages," Jude continued straight-faced.

"Oh…" Hammie looked over the group's various injuries, "Um, is everyone going to be okay?"

Doc was the next to snap out of his disbelief, "Uh, yeah, barring any more serious injuries, I think everyone here will heal up just fine."

Hammie sighed with relief, "I'm glad to hear that." As he spoke, the large fishman behind him rumbled as he slowly picked himself back up. Hammie seemed to pay no mind though, "Brody. Wendy. You two all right?"

Wendy was the first to try to warn Hammie, "Look-!" was all she could manage before Hammie cut her off.

"Oh, that's Brody's ring isn't it? I didn't think he'd ask you so soon! I guess close calls like today can change how a guy views things, huh?" Hammie continued, "Oh wait, you did say yes, didn't you?" he asked worriedly.

"No, I-" Wendy shook her head trying to clarify.

"You said no? Aw, man. I'm sorry to hear that, Brody," Hammie bowed apologetically, "I'm sorry to hear that, but if you don't mind, may I ask why not? I mean, if it's too personal, then by all means ignore me."

Jude and Michael stayed silent, as both had a certain respect for the entertainment value of what was about to happen, but for completely different reasons. Doc was in no position to see what was going on, but was just as confused for the others. Takashi was standing, but it wasn't certain just how conscious of his surroundings he was. This left, Wendy and Brody, who, like everyone else, were still trying to wrap their heads around the absurdity of the situation as Kitsushi slowly rose to his feet just behind Hammie.

The large fishman forcefully grabbed hold of Hammie's shoulder, but Hammie annoyingly brushed it aside, "Excuse me, sir, but one of my friends is probably going through a bad personal time. I'll get back to you in a second," Hammie turned back to Brody, "How you holding up Brody? It wasn't the ring, was it? I told you, I'm no good with that kind of thing."

"HAMMIE-!" Wendy cried out, but it was too late as Kitsushi reared back one of his arms and thrust it down at the unsuspecting human.

"**Hundred Brick Fist**!" Kitsushi's giant arm pummeled Hammie in the back of his skull, and the unsuspecting human quickly fell forward.

But stopped before his knees or hands could touch the ground, barely managing to keep his balance, "Now look, sir, that's just plain _**RUDE!**_" Hammie jerked around, his arm rocketing up into an uppercut at Kitsushi's jaw. Kitsushi never saw it coming as he felt a sledgehammer punch his chin, knocking him up in the air and launching the fishman far off into the water where he made a cannonball-sized splash.

Hammie looked at his handiwork and frowned, "Well, crap. I think I was a little too harsh on the guy. I'll have to go apologize to him later." Hammie turned back to Brody and Wendy and smiled apologetically, "Sorry about that, I'm kind of on edge right now. Kind of a bad day. But you don't need to hear about my problems! So are you two still together or is the whole thing over or-"

"HAMMIE!" Brody finally managed to shout loud enough to stop Hammie's rambling, "We're fine. She said yes."

"Oh, that's great! Congratulations!" Hammie rushed forward and gave the two a big bear hug that only made them remember their various strains and injuries. He quickly stopped once he realized the pain they were in, "Heh, sorry about that."

Before either could continue, a plume erupted from the wall of water straight at Hammie, its head forming into the mouth of a giant serpentine dragon. It quickly enveloped Hammie, knocking him off his feet and hurling him into the pagoda wreckage.

The others watched in shock as the water dragon consumed Hammie. From the other end, a large shape quickly swam through the watery serpent, stopping where Hammie was standing moments before. The water finally dissipated, leaving Kitsushi standing and staring hatefully at where the human was presumably crushed. "That's it. I don't know where all these uppity humans keep coming from, but I'm getting rid of all of them. No more Mister Nice Fishman," he softly growled, "But first thing's first," he turned back to Brody and Natalie, raising his leg for another attack, "You've had your share of miracles for one day."

Before he could continue, some metal projectile whizzed in front of his face, "What the-?" he was cut off as three more of the projectiles were shot at him, Kitsushi having to halt his attack to dodge, backing up and turning back to their source at the wreckage, doubly confused because he hadn't heard a gun fire, "You humans are harder to kill than cockroaches!"

Emerging slowly from the wreckage, making his way over the rubble, Hammie stepped out no worse for wear despite shortly before being hit with the force of a tidal wave. He was even excitedly smiling, "Hey guys, I found my tools!" Sure enough, when Hammie finally cleared the wreckage, he was sporting his full tool belt from before, and even had his rope coiled around one shoulder, "Lucky, huh? I thought I'd have to go buy new ones."

"You," Kitsushi's eyes focused on the new arrival, proving to be much harder to kill, "Who the hell are you?"

"Me? I'm Hammie, er… Captain Hammie that is. Nice to meet you," Hammie politely replied, "And you are?"

"Captain Kitsushi of the Tiburones Gemelos, proud Bull Shark, Fox Shark Fishman."

Hammie beamed with understanding, "Oh, I needed to talk to you. See, it seems one of your guys sunk my ship, so I was kind of hoping to get reimbursed."

"Were you now?" Kitsushi was quickly losing patience, "Well, it just so happens I'm a little busy right now, so if you'll kindly just get the hell out of my way, I'll get to you in a second."

"Oh? May I ask what's got you so busy?" Hammie asked innocently.

"I have to execute two traitors, and then decide whether or not to kill you or just beat you to within an inch of your life," Kitsushi scowled, "All in all, I've got a very busy day."

Hammie slowly stepped closer, "Can't let you do that, Shark Fox. Er, whatever combination you said."

Kitsushi twitched, "Why does every human today think they can just order me around?

"Sorry," Hammie calmly apologized, much to the surprise of Kitsushi and everyone watching, "I wasn't trying to be bossy. It's just that Brody and Wendy are my friends, and I can't stand by and let them get hurt," he explained simply.

"Friends?" Kitsushi shouted, nearing his breaking point, "Brody was my comrade! My nakama! My brother! We were together since we were children! We captained the same crew together for over a decade! And just what makes you two friends?"

Hammie thought carefully, "Well, I've known him about a day..."

"Ha! You don't have the right to call a pureblood shark fishman a friend! You don't even know him!"

"Really?" Hammie asked innocently, "Because I'm not the one trying to kill him and his fiancé."

"Don't you dare come down to my ocean and act like you know everything, you damn human! She's a murderer! He's a traitor! They both deserve death and more!"

Hammie's smile vanished, "You shouldn't talk about my friends that way. I might take offense."

As far as Kitsushi was concerned, that was enough of a challenge. Any trace of patience Kitsushi had left vanished as he charged forward, "Let's see how talkative you are in the ocean!" In an instant his arm whipped around as he clotheslined Hammie in the gut, throwing him up into the air towards the ocean wall.

But just as Hammie was nearing the water, where against Kitsushi he'd be dead for sure, something tightened around the fishman's wrist. Kitsushi quickly looked down to see a lasso tightening around his wrist and growing taut, one that Hammie was holding the other end to. Kitsushi, quickly realizing his predicament, lifted his leg up around the rope and slammed it down trying to sever it, but the same kick that shattered steel earlier only pulled the rope down, jerking it back.

The rope contracted like a bungee cord, pulling Hammie back before he could splash in the water. Kitsushi looked up in time to see Hammie holding a large hammer, hurtling towards him. The fishman tried to counterattack, but his leg and arm were now tangled up in the rope. Combined with the disbelief something this absurd was actually happening, he was defenseless.

Hammie's hammer smashed into Kitsushi's skull and for a moment his face was concave. The force easily knocked Kitsushi off his feet, since thanks to the entangling rope he had little balance left. While the fishman was still in the air Hammie landed on his feet, let go of the rope since it was still firmly tethered to his arm, and pulled out a second tool from his belt: a monkey wrench, oversized for any normal human but just the right size for Hammie. Kitsushi felt the metal vice of the wrench tighten around his throat just enough to give Hammie a grip.

Suddenly, Kitsushi was no longer falling, but being slammed directly into the ground. As his body naturally recoiled and bounced he was jerked by the neck again, making an arc as his head smashed against the ocean floor. Hammie slammed Kitsushi a third time, but the angles of his attacks weren't random, as Kitsushi was finally untangled from the rope just as Hammie intended.

Hammie spun around, swinging the concussion-inflicted Kitsushi like a tetherball before he released the wrench's grip on Kitsushi, sending the fishman skipping against the ground until he lay flat on his stomach.

Quickly holstering the wrench, Hammie pulled out a handful of nails with his free hand and tossed them high. Leaping up after them, Hammie worked into the perfect angle midair to slam each nail, point-first downward at the prone Kitsushi, all in a single swing. Still, each nail hit its mark perfectly, piercing the webbing on Kitsushi's hands and feet and pinning him to the ocean floor.

Hammie landed on his feet and twirled the hammer expertly in his hand. The bystanders watched with amazement as their biggest threat was just tossed around like a ragdoll.

"Impossible," muttered Brody of all people, "No one could do that to Kitsushi, human or fishman. _I _can't do that."

"You aren't Hammie," Jude politely interrupted, "Now, please remain seated and be quiet for the performance. You won't see another like it for a long while."

"Aye, this is gettin' good," Michael grinned, as everyone who knew them recoiled in horror at the thought of Jude and Michael actually agreeing on something.

Hammie stood and watched patiently until the nailed-down Kitsushi started to shake. Suddenly, the nails shot out as Kitsushi erupted back onto his feet.

"Figured that wouldn't keep you down," Hammie nodded.

Kitsushi cracked his neck and knuckles, the piercings in his hands still fresh. Despite this, Kitsushi spoke relatively calmly, "You're crafty. Strong. Cunning. Intelligent. And you don't flinch."

"Why thank you," Hammie smiled at the compliment.

"By all means, with those traits you should be a great warrior on the battlefield."

Hammie shrugged, shaking his head, "Sorry, battlefields aren't really my thing."

"I should be excited to fight you. Proud even. Few men could do that to a fishman, much less me. Instead, I'm just pissed off!" Kitsushi's voice grew louder even as the feral look started to return to his eyes.

"Oh," Hammie's smile vanished, disappointed, "I'm sorry. If you like, we could stop fighting and talk instead."

The fishman twitched even as a red haze started to glaze over his eyes, "First I'm going to kill you. Then I'm going to kill Brody. Then I'm going to kill every damn human I see."

"Geez, you're cranky," Hammie sighed, "I guess there's really no way out of this. After all, after what your guys did to my ship, you still owe me a new one."

Kitsushi charged forward, roaring like the beast that was driving him, "**Hundred Brick Fist**!" His arm launched at Hammie, who ducked to the side, bring his hammer into Kitsushi's gut.

Before the hammer could connect, Kitsushi's leg shot up, "**Rising Thrust Foxtail Kick**!" The hammer violently jerked out of Hammie's hand and flew far off. The fishman wasn't finished however, as his outstretched leg bent at the knee to grab hold of Hammie's arm. Finally, Kitsushi's outstretched arm thrust backward into an elbow jab to Hammie's spine.

Hammie was quickly falling to the ground, but still he managed to swing his free arm around and catch Kitsushi's one ankle still on the ground with the monkey wrench, sweeping Kitsushi off his feet. About to hit the ground face-first, Hammie wasn't sure what was about to happen since Kitsushi was directly above and behind him. Before he could swallow a face-full of dirt, two huge forearms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, "Oh this definitely isn't good…"

"**Coral Corral**!" Suddenly lifted into the air, the fishman started his revenge, "**Fishman Karate Secret Technique**," Hammie was suplexed skull first into the ground, "**Atomic-**" Dragged around in the dirt, only seconds after the first, Hammie slammed into the ground again, "**Dive Bomb-**" Finally, Kitsushi leapt into the air, holding the still disoriented Hammie. From the apex of the leap, Kitsushi squirmed into the air until he and Hammie were ready to slam head-first into the ground from at least twenty feet in the air, "**BUSTER!**" Kitsushi spun Hammie around as they both slammed into the ground.

The good news for Hammie in all of this was that the pain significantly dulled after the first concussion. After that, everything was a massive blurry headache. All he did know was that it ended with his head being buried in the sand. He struggled to break free, finally popping out like a turnip. "You know what? That honestly could have been worse," he tried to say optimistically, though his speech was still slurred. He looked around for the fishman, a more difficult task than usual since the world apparently wouldn't stop spinning.

His vision finally focused, and he could see Kitsushi near the ocean wall, both of his webbed hands somehow holding spiked spheres of water. "Still trying to figure out how being part fish means you can hold a liquid like a solid," Hammie mused.

"**Hydro-ken**!" Kitsushi hurled one of the water spheres like a dodgeball.

"I wonder, just how solid are those things? I guess there's really only one way to find out,"Hammie might have been able to avoid it, which was what the second Hydro-ken was meant to counter, but Hammie stood his ground, holding his wrench like a miniature bat. "This is a really bad idea_,_" Hammie took a swing at the water ball, hitting it square on the center, hoping to knock it away.

Instead, the water exploded on contact, hitting Hammie with a giant splash like a burst of grapeshot. _Well, at least that answers that question,_ Hammie thought as he rocketed into the ocean behind him, this time without a tether to save him. _Got to make it back to the dome before…_

"Right where I want you," came the voice clear as day right above Hammie, "And right where we'll finish this," In that instant, Kitsushi had somehow swam around the entire air dome to right in front of Hammie's eyes. Kitsushi pulled his arms back, seeming to pull the ocean itself into one concentrated spot between his hands, as the ocean currents all around them spiraled into the fishman's hands. Hammie couldn't help but be pulled in by the sweeping currents, "**Sharktooth Vortex**!" The currents moved so quickly, it felt like being sliced apart by hundreds of tiny blades, but that wasn't all as Hammie was pulled in closer until he was in Kitsushi's grasp. "**Fishman Karate Secret Technique: Davy Jones Locker**!" It was an unending flurry of punches and kicks, each one hitting with the force of a cannonball in a series of blinding, searing, watery explosions from the sheer force of his strikes.

In the middle of Kitsushi's combo, however, Hammie blindly reached out and grabbed the nearest solid object, which happened to be one of Kitsushi's arms. With something now to brace himself, Hammie's legs clumsily spun around into the fishman's side. He wasn't a martial artist like his opponent, but grabbing hold of Kitsushi made it impossible for him to escape. His legs kicked into the fishman's side hard, breaking the attack and kicking the fishman back into the air dome.

Kitsushi skipped across the dirt before leaping to his feet just as Hammie clumsily emerged from his would-be watery grave, "I told you," he said mildly annoyed, "I'm not going swimming again. Look, I'm already all pruney." Hammie started futilely wringing the seawater out of his clothes.

"**Hydro-ken**!" Water gathered from the ocean wall nearest to Kitsushi and launched at Hammie. Still soaked, he threw up his arms defensively. It still felt like a cannon impact, but this time Hammie stood his ground.

Kitsushi, having expected to knock Hammie back into the ocean right behind him, stared in disbelief, quickly firing off a few more of the watery attacks from afar.

His arms raised to protect himself as best he could, Hammie slowly stepped forward as if the attacks were nothing more than a strong wind.

"**Fishman Karate Secret Technique**…" This time instead of rapidly firing off, the water currents started entwining like pieces of rope, creating a large, long serpentine figure of coursing rapids, ending in the formation of a repitilian head, "**WATER DRAGON**!" The sea serpent rushed forward at Kitsushi's will, snaking along the ground, racing to devour Hammie back into the ocean where Kitsushi was king.

Hammie blinked a few times and tilted his head to the side, staring at the water serpent with curiosity instead of any sense of urgency. "I wonder..." Hammie stood his ground and pulled out a large screwdriver from his belt and carefully eyed the dragon about to steamroll him. "If this has any chance of working, it's got to be dead center." If anyone was shouting for Hammie to get out of the way, the literally roaring waters made it impossible for him to hear. The water dragon made one final lunge and Hammie thrusted the screwdriver in the center of the serpent's gaping maw. He barely stood his ground, but his legs were quickly giving. His arm felt like a typhoon was personally tearing it apart, but only when his arm was completely submerged, the screwdriver imbedded deep into swirling waters, did he act.

Hammie suddenly jerked the screwdriver and his entire arm with as much force he could muster counterclockwise, the reverse of the spiraling waters. Immediately, the dragon started to unravel from the head, all of the swirling waters keeping it solid having stopped. This continued all the way down the length of the waters, everything harmlessly dissipating. Kitsushi stood completely stunned by what just happened, "_My clan's secret technique… In an instant…_"

"Yeah, I wasn't sure that would work either," Hammie calmly responded as he inspected his tools for damage, "It's hard to find tools like this these days. All that force and yet not even a single scratch. Definitely a sound investment."

"**HRRAAAAGGGHH**!" Veins were bulging, muscles were involuntarily flexing, and several parts of Kitsushi's body were violently twitching as he let out a bloodthirsty roar. His leg suddenly lashed out as a disjointed, misshapen shockwave sliced through the ground towards Hammie, "**FOXTAIL GUILLOTINE**!"

Pretty sure he wasn't about to block this one, Hammie dove to the left as the shockwave cut into the ocean behind him. He turned to see the hole linger in the wall of water, the edges of it steaming. The water should have filled in the hole instantly, but the force of Kitsushi's attack evaporated any water that came into contact with its imprint. Hammie wanted to know more about the bizarre physics going on down here, but his curiosity was cut short by Kitsushi letting off another of the same attack at Hammie's new location.

All Hammie could do was leap to his feet and run along the perimeter of the ocean as the wall of water started developing jagged, steaming cracks, further slapping physics and common sense in the face. "They shouldn't compromise the integrity of this air dome, just make it grow a little from the extra air," Hammie started thinking out loud as he ran for his life, "Of course that doesn't help me right now with this."

That's when Hammie's foot hit something unexpected and he tripped forward onto his chest. A horizontal shockwave passed just over his head, singing some of the hairs on the back of his neck. Hammie looked over and saw what he had tripped over: his precious hammer sticking out of the sand. "I'm not sure if you saved my life or killed me," Hammie spoke to his hammer as Kitsushi kicked another shockwave his way, this time low enough that it would slice the prone Hammie and half.

Quickly rolling backwards, picking up the hammer on the way, Hammie leapt to his feet as the shockwave passed right in front of him, the heat burning his eyes. "Okay, so it can slice pretty much anything, hm?" Hammie glanced at his opponent even as he ran back in the opposite direction to dodge the barrage of shockwaves. "Man," Hammie complained to himself, "He just doesn't let up. I guess there's no way to do this without getting hit," he resigned.

Finally, Hammie stopped in his tracks. He had to align this perfectly, and Kitsushi had already kicked the next shockwave his way. Grabbing a handful of nails, Hammie tossed them in the air and knocked them all in one swipe in Kitsushi's direction. The nails and Kitsushi's attack collided and the shockwave sliced them like butter, turning the four nail projectiles into eight smaller shrapnel bullets.

Before he could realize what happened, a hail of shrapnel pierced straight through Kitsushi, stopping his barrage of attacks. At the same time, however, the Foxtail Guillotine collided with Hammie, slicing straight through him.

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then Hammie's chest erupted in a spray of blood. Somehow his body was still in one piece, but a deep gash poured blood from his shoulder to his waist and Hammie was already feeling faint. He wished he could assure himself that his vitals were missed, but Hammie knew better. He was no doctor, but Hammie could feel the trauma in his heart and lungs, the fractures in his ribs, even if the blood loss made it difficult to feel much else. Yet somehow he was still standing.

As was Kitsushi, but the wounds that pierced straight through the fishman's body were not superficial like before. A few bones were cracked, a few arteries nicked, but he was still the better off. His leg was shot in several areas. Moving it was a chore now. The fishman was more concerned with the fact that he had just supposedly hit his opponent with a lethal execution technique, yet the human was still standing. "I still… have one good leg…" Kitsushi resolved. The human had wounded him, but the advantage was still his, "What have you got?"

Hammie wasn't sure it was healthy to even try to talk back, and he couldn't just rest and try to recover. It wouldn't be long before Kitsushi finished him off. The nails were a good idea, but the tradeoff was too much. He only survived because Kitsushi had let off a shockwave instead of hitting him directly with that monstrous leg. The shockwave had passed through his body only doing significant damage instead of just completely slicing him in half. At this range, the best Hammie could do was fire off a few more nails, but those could only do so much.

"Nothing!" Kitsushi declared through gritted teeth, "The answer is you've got nothing!" Barely standing on his wounded leg, Kitsushi raised his one good one, "**SO DIE ALREADY**!" Letting off another of his Foxtail Kicks, Hammie didn't so much dodge as he did fall to the left to barely avoid it, only realizing too late that he'd dropped his hammer.

"Oh no you don't!" Not even thinking, Hammie threw the lasso of his rope at the hammer, promising himself not to lose it again, the rope tightening around the grip of the hammer. When he pulled it back, he realized his new invention, "If I can get just a little closer, then I've got a reach weapon with a decent punch behind it to work with!" His excitement reviving his adrenaline, Hammie started spinning the hammer and rope, the lasso having been turned into a deadly weighted weapon. He rushed forward best he could, hoping he'd be able to sidestep any more of Kitsushi's attacks.

But when he did manage to sidestep Kitsushi's next shockwave, it wasn't quite enough, and the rope was easily severed by the heated shockwave. "Or not," Hammie initially thought himself screwed, but the angle and momentum just sent the oversized hammer hurtling at Kitsushi, and by some stroke of luck the hammer slammed into Kitsushi's face. Hammie stared in disbelief, "Or that could happen," he mused at his good fortune.

The hammer fell to the ground along with a row of shattered teeth, leaving a large hammer-shaped indentation in Kitsushi's face.

The fishman trembled in anger even as a new row of teeth grew back, "**THIS ENDS NOW**! **FOXTAIL HARPOON**!" Kitsushi threw his leg straight up, but this time, the shockwave soared upward like an arrow, all the way to the top of the dome.

"Um, I think you missed," Hammie watched, confused at the direction of the attack. There was a distant but loud splash, and for a few seconds nothing. Suddenly, Hammie felt a couple drops of water splash on his face and shoulders, "Rain…?" he guessed in confusion before realizing the truth, "You pierced the bubble!"

"I've put up with you long enough!" growled Kitsushi, "Let the ocean rush in here and wipe you all from the face of the earth!" Even as he spoke, the rain turned into a downpour, and a hole in the ceiling of the dome grew wider to reveal the sky above.

"But you have wounded down here!" Hammie pleaded, motioning to the wounded fishmen over with the rest of the spectators, "They're just as screwed if you flood the whole place!" The watery walls lost their solidity and became waterfalls, the area around them quickly flooding.

"If they're worth their species they'll survive," said Kitsushi coldly, "But you and the rest of the humans, you're all done for. I will protect the pride of the fishmen!"

Hammie tried to protest, but was drowned out by the roaring waves as the air dome quickly turned into raging whirlpool that swept everyone up, human and fishman alike.

_To be continued…_

**Author's Notes: **Whew, been a while. Work's been crazy, hopefully less crazy so this story can get going again.

I didn't have a Beta reader this chapter, just proofread everything myself. We'll see if that works or if that leaves more errors than before. Reviews as always are welcome.

Next chapter is the conclusion to the fight, promise!


	17. The True Captain, Part Fin

_The fishman trembled in anger even as a new row of teeth grew back, "__**THIS ENDS NOW**__! __**FOXTAIL HARPOON**__!" Kitsushi threw his leg straight up, but this time, the shockwave soared upward like an arrow, all the way to the top of the dome._

"_Um, I think you missed," Hammie watched, confused at the direction of the attack. There was a distant but loud splash, and for a few seconds nothing. Suddenly, Hammie felt a couple drops of water splash on his face and shoulders, "Rain…?" he guessed in confusion before realizing the truth, "You pierced the bubble!"_

"_I've put up with you long enough!" growled Kitsushi, "Let the ocean rush in here and wipe you all from the face of the earth!" Even as he spoke, the rain turned into a downpour, and a hole in the ceiling of the dome grew wider to reveal the sky above._

"_But you have wounded down here!" Hammie pleaded, motioning to the wounded fishmen over with the rest of the spectators, "They're just as screwed if you flood the whole place!" The watery walls lost their solidity and became waterfalls, the area around them quickly flooding. _

"_If they're worth their species they'll survive," said Kitsushi coldly, "But you and the rest of the humans, you're all done for. I will protect the pride of the fishmen!"_

_Hammie tried to protest, but was drowned out by the roaring waves as the air dome quickly turned into raging whirlpool that swept everyone up, human and fishman alike._

* * *

Blinding light pierced her shut eyes, mumbled words echoed in her ears, and a searing pain permeated her entire body as Wendy slowly drifted back into consciousness, only just now remembering her name. "Hey, Brody, she's waking up," came the echoing voice in her ears, slowly becoming clearer.

Hey eyes peeked open to see two figures enshrouded by the sun behind them, "W-where am I?" she barely whimpered out.

"You're all right! Thank goodness!" said Brody's relieved voice coming from one of the blurry silhouettes in front of her. Wendy could feel arms around her now, but everything was still fuzzy.

"You're on the beach of Jaggerjaw Bay," the images of a no longer paralyzed Doc and a distraught Brody focused into existence, "Does it hurt anywhere?"

"Yes…" she said weakly.

"Where does it hurt?" Doc clarified.

"Yes…" she replied, "What happened? I remember…" Events started coming back to Wendy piece by piece, "At the bottom of the ocean, then everything started flooding. Couldn't swim against the current, and then… something jerked my foot and everything went black."

Doc nodded, "Same thing to everyone here, though no one completely saw what happened."

"Everyone?" Wendy managed to sit up and look around. Takashi was lying still on the ground, a little better patched up than before. Michael was busy trying to dry his guns out, while Jude was standing proudly watching the giant, newly formed whirlpool in the ocean. Across the beach, Wendy saw Mambo tending to the injuries of the rest of the fishman gang who washed up on shore with them. Two important figures were still missing, however, "Where's Hammie?"

"He hasn't come up yet," Brody answered uneasily, "Neither has Kitsushi."

Wendy connected the rest of the dots in her mind, "Hammie… he got everyone out of the whirlpool." It's what he would have done after all, she reasoned in her mind. Hammie's lasso combined with his strength, he alone could probably throw someone underwater with enough force to get them free of the whirlpool Kitsushi created. But if he was stuck down there now, "He saved us all."

Everyone was silent, wondering if there was any way Hammie could have survived this long under water with Kitsushi without air.

"Something's coming!" All eyes turned when a dark shape approached the shore.

"Hammie?" Wendy asked hopefully.

"I don't think so…" Brody tried to stand ready, his injuries still holding him back.

Sure enough, Kitsushi slowly arose from the water, more bruised than before, but still intact, "The pride of the fishmen," he proclaimed as he stepped forward, "Despite your best efforts remains intact," Kitsushi locked eyes with Brody, although stone-faced he still raised his head proudly, "Brody, are you still on the humans' side?"

Brody grimaced, fearing for Hammie's well-being, "I'm not on anyone's side. I'm just the only sane one left."

Kitsushi brought his leg up in Brody's direction, readying for the kill, "Have it your way," Before he could execute Brody, he was interrupted by the hysterical laughter of the nearly naked human watching from the side. Kitsushi blinked in confusion, considered his options, and lowered his leg for the time being, turning to the very odd human, "I'm going to regret asking this, but what's so damn funny?"

Jude couldn't help but snicker, holding his eyes as he pointed back out at the ocean, "You haven't looked behind you yet."

Kitsushi's eyes widened in disbelief, "You're bluffing!" Jude only answered by grinning wider, "No… It couldn't be!" Kitsushi darted around to see someone hunched over in the shallows of the water, someone who couldn't possibly be there, "What the hell is wrong with you? Why won't you die?"

"Hey Brody…" Hammie rasped between breaths, seawater still pouring from his clothes, a soaked rope tightly tied around his waist, "Sorry about this, but like I said earlier, these guys do owe me a ship," When Hammie glanced up at Brody, he was smiling.

Brody shook his head in confusion, "What are you- HEY!"

Jude had suddenly dashed in, grabbed Wendy and Kitsushi and pulled them out of the way while Kitsushi was distracted, "Sorry, but I know how this ends, and you don't want front row seats, trust me."

"But there's more than one way to square that debt," Hammie reached behind him and tugged on the rope with both arms, throwing all his strength into pulling it and whatever it was tied to. His legs braced, his teeth grinded against each other, and every muscle in his body flexed to tug at the seemingly anchored rope, as if he was trying to pull the world itself out of orbit.

At first, the rope seemed immobile, the effort wasted. But then the whirlpool in the center of the bay was disturbed by something. One by one, the spectators' eyes were drawn to the growing shape in the water, foaming larger and larger until enough water drained from it for it to be visible.

The headquarters of the Tiburones Gemelos, the three-story pagoda on top of a battleship, the ancient warship of the fishmen, or rather what remained of its wreckage on the ocean floor, slowly rose from the ocean depths. For a moment, it seemed to be rising as the product of some sort of divine miracle or ancient curse. The ship rose until it was no longer touching the surface, having suddenly gained the miracle of flight.

That's when most of the spectators, Kitsushi included, noticed the rope line connecting it to the grunting human pulling it out of the water. Time seemed to slow down as the ship flew over the water, arcing over Hammie even as stray debris fell back into the water. Hammie hurled it through the air, set to land on Kitsushi and only Kitsushi, as everyone else had just enough presence of mind to back the hell away.

Kitsushi could only stare as conflicting emotions flooded into his mind one after another: confusion, disbelief, anger, shame, and finally, as he relaxed and stared blankly into his world literally crashing down on top of him, acceptance. _He's the stronger one. I failed everything the fishmen were supposed to stand for. I'm sorry, everyone._ Kitsushi didn't even blink as the shipwreck crashed on top of him.

Fishman and human alike stood in silence, unsure of how to react. Even though they had just seen it, none were sure there eyes weren't playing tricks on them.

Except Jude, who started applauding, "Bravo! That's how you properly end a performance: by bringing the house down!"

"He… he won?" Wendy dared to hope, "Hammie won?"

Some waited to see if Kitsushi would burst out of the wreckage, prove himself perfectly fine and finish what he started, but no such moment came. Satisfied, Hammie quietly walked towards the giant wreck.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Doc managed to chime in before Hammie could get farther away, "Fight's over. You need medical attention."

Hammie calmly smiled in response, "In a minute. I have to go clean up this mess first," he casually replied before climbing into the wreckage.

* * *

_Kitsushi waited for his life to flash before his eyes, but all that came was one old, vague, but familiar memory…_

_Years ago, deep under the sea…_

"_And punch!"_

"_**HYAH!"**_

"_Two!"_

"_**HYAH!"**_

"_Three!"_

"_**HYAH!"**_

_Inside the underwater dojo, a school of young fishmen dutifully followed their Sensei's instructions, thrusting alternating palms with each direction. "Remember students!" the elderly instructor, a lionfish fishman, paced between the practicing students, inspecting them for the tiniest flaw, "It is not enough, in the art of fishman karate, for your body alone to be strong. A true master of fishman karate does not attack with his arm alone. The entire ocean is a part of his body, just as much as his arms and legs," One of the larger students' leg was merely an inch off where it should have been, so the sensei quickly leg swept the unwary young fishman, him landing on his back, "If you do not acknowledge and embrace the ocean as part of you, then you are doomed to be swept under its tides."_

_Sensei left the still recovering student to another, younger fishman. The youngest in the class even. Even so, his stance was perfect as far as he could tell. The student had the least experience of his class, but he learned the quickest. Still, the sensei wanted to make sure that arrogance never filled the boy's mind. He swept the student off his feet. Although equally surprised, instead of falling to the ground, the student flipped backward in the ocean water until he landed on his feet as before._

_Sensei nodded with approval. "Sparring matches!" he declared, and the students all rushed to the sides of the room, standing with respect. "Brody," he pointed to the promising young student, "And Kitsushi,"he then turned to the older student who he'd knocked down earlier. The two stepped to the center of the room, awaiting instructions. Some of the students wondered about the matchup, as Kitsushi was literally twice the size of the new student, but no one dared question Sensei. _

"_Bow," the two students turned to each other and bowed, "BEGIN!" Both took their respective stances and started trading blows. The outcome was as everyone expected, with Kitsushi pinning the new student to the floor in a matter of seconds. _

"_STOP!" Sensei commanded, and Kitsushi instantly let go. Both students turned to their instructor, "Brody. Good work. Excellent form." The young fishman bowed in appreciation. "Kitsushi. Very sloppy. Practice more."_

"_Forgive me, Sensei!" Kitsushi objected, "But I was the clear victor!"_

_Sensei glared coldly at Kitsushi and bellowed, "You won through your natural size and strength! Your technique was poor! You used only your arms and legs, and even then your movements were clumsy and wasted! Brody's technique was flawless. If you were both adults, he would have been the clear victor!"_

"_Y-Yes, Sensei!" Kitsushi responded with embarrassment. _

"_That is all for today! Class dismissed!"_

_Kitsushi left the dojo a little more humbled than when he entered. As he started on his way home, he turned to see someone rushing to catch up to him._

"_Wait up!" the new student yelled as he caught up to Kitsushi, who only gave a brief glance before continuing on his way, "It's Kitsushi, right? Sensei's pretty tough, huh?"_

"_What do you want?"Kitsushi growled._

"_What? I just wanted to talk," Brody said innocently._

"_About?" came the curt reply as Kitsushi continued on his path, Brody following alongside him._

"_I don't know," Brody shrugged, "I figured maybe we could be sparring partners or something. Practice together, you know."_

_Kitsushi twitched, "And what makes you think you need practice?"_

"_Are you kidding?" laughed Brody, " You wiped the floor with me! I don't know what Sensei was on your back for."_

"_I think we're done here," Kitsushi moved just a little bit quicker to try and put some distance between him and the kid annoying him._

_But Brody merely sped up as well, keeping pace, "Hey, I didn't mean it like that."_

"_Why are you following me?" asked Ktisushi, quickly growing impatient._

"_Well, how do I put it…" Brody thought for a moment, searching for the right words, " I guess… When people go looking for friends normally, they usually look for something. Common interests, a sense of humor, stuff like that, right?"_

"_I wouldn't know. I don't have any friends," was the emotionless reply._

"_Perfect! Me neither! Anyway," Brody unexpectedly exclaimed in excitement, "This might be just me, but I personally think my friends should be the strongest around. Not to say there's anything wrong with being friends with the weak. Just that when looking for potential pals, it might be good to look for someone who's got your back. And you're easily the strongest in the class!"_

_This actually caused Kitsushi to pause and glance at Brody, "Really?"_

"_Except for Sensei, but now that I think about it, he's getting kind of old. You might be able to knock out his dentures."_

_This forced a smile and even a light chuckle from the normally stone-faced Kitsushi, "Heh… What'd you say your name was?"_

"_Brody Martin. Great White Shark fishman. You?"  
_

"_Kitsushi. Half Bull shark, half Fox shark fishman."_

_Brody grinned, "Geez, no wonder I got my ass handed to me. Not a bad combination."_

"_Wish my father thought so," muttered Kitsushi._

"_What was that?"_

"_Nothing…" dismissed Kitsushi just before he stopped moving, Brody following suit._

"_Why've we stopped?" asked a somewhat confused Brody._

"_This is where I live,"Kitsushi motioned to the decent-sized, pristine, fenced-in home, one without any decorations or personality to it. Standing on the front doorstep was a large, fierce, disgruntled-looking, older shark fishman, dressed in a formal, dark-colored hakama other might consider depressing._

"_Yikes, who's the scary old guy?" Brody joked without thinking._

"_That's my father," said Kitsushi, the stone expression returning to his face._

"_Oh," Brody said embarrassed. After looking over the two, the older shark fishman approached the two, sending shivers down Brody's spine as his chest felt like it would be ripped open by the daggers of the adult's piercing glare._

_He looked as if he was about to chastise Brody for not keeping the volume down on his pounding heartbeat, but instead he turned to his fellow student, "Welcome home, Kitsushi," he spoke coldly without any hint of parental love in his voice, "And how did you perform in your training today."_

_Kitsushi bowed slightly, just enough to look at his father's feet, "Thank you, father. Today's session was fruitful. I learned much." His father glared coldly in response. Brody would later learn that this was basically code for 'I got my ass handed to me' in Kitsushi's household. A moment of awkward silence passed between the three before Brody coughed. "I'm sorry," Kitsushi apologized for no reason in particular, "Father, this is a new student in my class. His name is-"_

"_I know the name of the son of the Martin family," this time it was the old man's turn to bow respectfully to Brody, surprising both of the younger fishmen, "I served under your father many years ago, Master Brody. Your presence here is an honor."_

"_Um, thanks?" came the eventual response. Kitsushi never broke his posture or spoke out of turn, but seemed to be equally confused._

"_May I ask why fortune has graced our humble abode with your presence?" the older fishman asked._

"_I was just asking Kitsushi here if he wouldn't mind practicing and sparring together,' Brody then quickly added after thinking, "With your permission of course… sir."_

"_I see… My son will be glad to assist you in whatever you require." Apparently a family discussion wasn't necessary._

"_Th-thank you very much, sir," Brody tried awkwardly bowing back in respect._

"_Now, if you'll excuse us, Master Brody, my son and I have important family matters to discuss."_

"_O-of course!" Brody bowed to the adult and turned to Kitsushi before heading off, "See you next practice!"_

_Kitsushi knew better than to speak out of turn as he and his father waited until Brody was out of sight. "Kitsushi, listen closely," his father began._

"_Yes, father?"_

"_Brody Martin is unlike you or me. We are members of the shark fishmen, the greatest species on earth. We are superior to even other species of fishmen, and far superior to the land-walking humans above us and their equally inferior cousins. We have every reason to be proud," Kitsushi listened carefully to his father's words. "But Brody and his family are pure blood Great White Shark fishmen, whereas we have the mixed blood of several different types of shark fishmen in our veins. For the purity of their blood, the Martin family is superior even to us. To be a servant or slave to the Martin family would be an honor to us. To be a companion to the Martin family is one of the greatest honors you could possibly achieve. You have done well even if your meeting was luck."_

"_Thank you, father," Kitsushi started before his father quickly raised one hand for silence._

"_You will assist Brody Martin in whatever task he might undertake. You will do all you can to ensure his safety, and more importantly his honor. If he desires something, you must help him obtain it. If you can, you will give him your life. If possible, you must help his offspring retain the purity of blood that he has, though you obviously do not have a say in what sort of fishwoman he would take as a mate. _

"_But most important of all, you must protect his honor. If he should attempt something that would compromise his family line's honor, you must stop him by any means necessary, even if it means killing him. Do you understand?"_

_Kitsushi was silent for a moment, processing the information, "Yes, father. I swear I will give my life and everything I am to protect the honor of Brody Martin."_

"_Very good. You may one day make your ancestors proud," the older fishman said approvingly before turning to go inside. _

_Kitsushi followed ten paces behind, but a bright light shone from the normally dim door of his home, one that as he approached grew lighter until it blinded all of his senses…_

* * *

"There you are. How're you doing? Still alive?" came the disembodied voice from the bright light above Kitsushi.

The fishman lay in the bottom of the rubble, pinned down by debris of wood, metal, and concrete. Even if he was capable of moving, he didn't try to free himself. There would be no point to it. "I let down everyone… my best friend and fellow captain… my crew… my heritage…"

"Nah, don't beat yourself up. The way I see it, I already took care of that, and preventing you from doing anything really bad," the voice of the human joked.

Kitsushi argued, "One of my crew, the people I was supposed to protect, was murdered. The killer walks free, and my fellow captain gave up his people and his position to protect her. How is that not a failure?"

The voice was silent for a minute, contemplating a response, "What makes you think they did those things?"

"How could I not?" the fishman cried, "Why else would Brody outright refuse a trial, or even an investigation?"

"Just a sec," Hammie left the rubble for a moment and yelled out to the crowd watching, "Hey Wendy, did you murder anyone?"

Wendy's eyes shot to the sand, the events of that horrible day playing over and over in her mind, trying to find the answer to that question, "I… don't…"

"Look, it's not that hard," Hammie shouted back, "Did you ever purposefully kill someone and intend to do so?"

"N-no?" she responded in confusion.

Hammie smiled and turned to Brody, "What about you, Brody? Did you ever do anything like that?"

"Of course not!" came the indignant response.

Hammie nodded and resumed digging Kitsushi out of the rubble, "There. Mystery solved."

"And you can just take their word for it?" said Kitsushi.

"Sure," Hammie shrugged, "Like I said, Brody and Wendy are my friends. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn't take them at their word?"

Kitsushi winced, closed his eyes, and lay still for several minutes in thought even as Hammie worked tirelessly to free him, "You know, I would've gladly been a first mate, a lowly deckhand, or even a slave under Brody. Brody was the one who insisted we share the burden of captainhood. I would've taken a bullet for him without a second thought or any regrets. But in the end, I couldn't even trust his own judgment. If I could move, I'd kill myself in shame," he said in contempt and disgust, this time not directed at anyone but himself.

Hammie finally pulled back the last board pinning the fishman to the ground, "Well, it's a good thing I haven't dug you out yet, because that would kind of defeat the purpose."

Kitsushi looked into the human's eyes, seeing nothing but a naïve, innocent kindness, nothing like the man he'd fought minutes ago, "Why are you helping me? My crew destroyed your ship, and I tried to kill you."

Hammie bent down to Kitsushi's side and draped one of the fishman's arms around his shoulder, "Yeah, but to be fair I kind of returned the favor on both counts, so I guess that makes us even. Besides, I'm not the main person you owe an apology to."

Kitsushi shook his head in tears, "How can I possibly look them in the eye and expect to be forgiven?"

"Hell if I know. You should ask them. Now come on, work with me here. I shouldn't have to carry a big lug like you the whole way," Hammie helped the begrudged Kitsushi up and led him out of the rubble.

Outside the wreckage of the ship, human and fishman alike watched and listened quietly for any sign of Hammie or Kitsushi, but all they could hear was the shifting of wood and rubble.

"There they are!" came an unexpected shout from the distance. Wendy turned to see a crowd of feeble villagers armed with any pitchfork, rake, broom, or other household implement they could find. At the forefront of the group, the cowardly mayor Quint led the mob, worn shovel in hand, rushing over to Wendy, Brody, and the rest of the group.

"Quint!" Wendy exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

Quint struggled to catch his breath along with the rest of the mob, "Wendy, look, I'm sorry. We're all a bunch of weak cowards. But we can't just stand back ourselves and let you risk your lives on our account. Just point us in the right direction, and we'll do our best. Sure, we'll probably die horrific painful deaths, but it's the right thing to do!" Every one of the villagers meekly sounded in agreement.

"Um… you're a little late," Wendy tried to explain.

The crowd of villagers murmured in confusion, especially Quint, "Come again?"

Just then, the rubble of the shipwreck made one final shift as a series of armored plates of the once great ship fell to the side leaving a small pathway for two shadowy figures to emerge arm in arm. Hammie and Kitsushi walked out together, both beaten to a pulp, the fishman being propped up by the human.

Quint widened his eyes in horror, "I-it's you! Why are you helping that fishman? Don't you know who he is?"

Hammie ignored the frazzled mayor and cleared his throat, "Kitsushi here has something he'd like to say to you," Hammie let go of the shamed fishman and nudged him forward, "Go on."

As Kitsushi slowly approached them, Brody jumped in front of Wendy, no one sure what he was going to try. Kitsushi stepped forward a few paces before seemingly collapsing. Not out of exhaustion as everyone might've expected, but the fishman bowed on his hands and knees, head face-down in the dirt.

"Brody… Wendy…" the once unshakable fishman groveled, "I don't deserve to be called captain. I betrayed and failed both of you in the worst possible way. You deserve my head on a silver platter, and if you ask, I'll gladly give it to you." Tears dripped down into the sand along with what little remained of his dignity, "I'm sorry… for everything. I don't deserve your forgiveness or your mercy, but I must ask for it anyway."

Brody and Wendy stood in stunned silence, slowly blinking and waiting for what had to be an illusion or dream to fade out of existence. The first to snap out of it was Wendy, who suddenly grinned and whispered something into Brody's ear.

Brody turned to Wendy in even more confusion than before, "You sure?" Wendy nodded excitedly in response. Brody shared a small grin before wiping it into a cold grimace, "All right then," Brody stepped in front of the groveling fishman, coldly glaring down the bridge of his nose at him, "Kitsushi, Wendy and I will forgive everything you've done, on one condition."

Shocked by the mere possibility of forgiveness, Kitsushi raised his head, "Anything! My arm! My leg! My eyes! I'll be your slave if you want!"

Brody smiled, "I'm getting married soon. I need a best man."

"T-that's your condition?" Kitsushi blinked.

"Yup. Do you accept?" he nodded, "Or is that too much for you?"

"I-I accept!" Kitsushi hurriedly agreed.

"YAY!" Wendy happily screamed as she jumped up and down in joy. Brody said nothing more but gave his fishman comrade a big, brotherly hug.

"MARRIED?" Before Quint heard that news, there had never been quite that shade of white on any man's skin. Everything else that had happened here paled in comparison to that one bit of news. He was completely ignored by the celebrating couple.

Hammie counted to ten on his fingers, giving the moment time to set in before clearing his throat, "Excuse me," he tapped Kitsushi on the shoulder, "Isn't there something else you need to do?" He nudged towards the crowd of villagers.

Kitsushi nodded seriously and slowly approached the terrified armed mob, "Tiburones Gemelos!" Kitsushi boomed, "Form up!" It didn't matter if most of them were injured, every fishman who had otherwise stood on the sidelines until then rushed forward into formation behind Kitsushi. They had no more idea what was going on than anyone else, but they still knew how to follow orders. The villagers' recoiled in horror as they clutched their weapons tighter.

"Tiburones Gemelos!" commanded Kitsushi, "Bow!" The fishman captain threw himself to the ground as he had before. The other fishmen hesitated only for a second, having to process the before-unheard of order, before following suit.

"Villagers of Jaggerjaw!" Kitsushi yelled loudly, "We vowed to protect you, and instead we oppressed you. We treated you like slaves, not like equals like we should have. We failed you. Can you forgive us?"

Quint was starting to feel nauseous, scanning the scene and completely unsure of what he should do, of what the mayor of Amity Village should do, "I…" his eyes fell on Hammie, who only smiled at him. _I'm the mayor now, damnit!_ Quint resolved in his mind, _This is what I have to do…_ Suddenly, Quint tossed his shovel to the ground at his side, and threw himself down, bowing exactly as Kitsushi was, "Forgive us!" Quint paused to look behind him, impatiently motioning for the rest of the crowd to bow with him. Although they hesitated, one by one the crowd laid down their weapons and followed suit, "We have to share part of the blame for treating you like monsters instead of people who live here too."

As the two crowds bowed in the sand to each other, Wendy couldn't help as tears streamed down her face.

The moment was broken when one of the fishman in the back piped up, "But boss! Where we gonna live? Our home is trashed." The rest of the fishmen murmured in agreement and uncertainty.

"You know, now that you mention it," Hammie stepped in, "Aren't there a bunch of abandoned boarded up houses in town? Sounds like there could be plenty of rooms. After the two resident doctors make sure they're plague-free of course. What do you say, mayor?"

The mere mention of the word 'doctor' was enough to hush all the villagers. All eyes turned to Quint for guidance, who, barely able to form a coherent response, meekly replied, "Um… er… Sounds good?"

Both sides arose cheering as a years' worth of hate and mistrust had seemingly instantly vanished. The rigid formation of the crowds devolved into handshakes and hugs between both races, and excited talks about celebrations, drinks, and parties, especially one particular wedding coming up.

Satisfied with the turn of events, Hammie finally relaxed, "I think I'll take a nap now…" Hammie fell backward right where he stood and was completely unconscious before he hit the sand.

_To be continued…_

**Author's Notes: **Not even jury duty can prevent me from putting this chapter up! Hopefully your patience has been rewarded.

And just so you know, I've still got a few more chapters to go before this arc ends.


	18. The Wedding Preparations

_Hammie opened his eyes as his hammer swung down, nailing the floorboard into place. He was kneeling. Somewhere familiar._

_"Three minutes to showtime!" a familiar voice shouted amongst the rest of the backstage, "Hammie, hurry up!" the woman scolded._

_The woman's familiar heels stepped in front of him along with the hemline of her black and rose dress. Her shoe tapped the floor, and Hammie found himself unable to look up at the woman's face. "Almost done, Mom," Hammie heard himself say._

_"Good, just don't forget your costume this time," before Hammie could look up his mother was already gone, "Two minutes to showtime, people!"_

_Hammie put away the hammer and pulled out a tree saw, immediately going to work without quite understanding how._

_"Oh brother dear, have you seen my seashell bra?" Jude walked up in bright, flashy mermaid costume, "I fear I might have to resort to coconuts for the balcony scene."_

_"Did you check by the cactus?" Hammie's voice offered._

_"No, I don't imagine I did. You have my gratitude," Jude walked off leading the two unicorns, "And please, do remember your costume tonight."_

_"One minute to showtime!"_

_Hammie frantically sped up, pounding away at the floorboards with a banana._

_Suddenly, everything went quiet. The lights went dark for a moment before something bright flashed in his eyes. Hammie slowly stood up and looked into the packed crowd, all staring at him on center stage._

_"Hammie!" Jude whispered off-stage, "You forgot your costume again!"_

_Hammie looked down at himself, only now just realizing he was completely naked. He could do nothing but stand frozen in fear as the crowd murmured with confusion._

_"The hell is this?" murmured Michael from the crowd, "I can think o' plenty o' people I'd like to watch naked. He ain't one of 'em."_

_"Meh, I've seen better," Doc sipped from a long straw connected to a keg next to his seat._

_"To be caught so disarmed is to shame oneself, especially with something like this," Takashi commented._

_"So, is this supposed to be a symbol or something?" asked Wendy with one eyebrow cocked as the two shark fishmen who sat on either side of her were equally confused._

_Whispers and murmurs echoed through the crowd as Hammie couldn't help but watch his humiliation in this out-of-body experience._

_"Too many people," Hammie thought, "What am I doing here? I shouldn't be here, I should be somewhere else, anywhere else than in front of all these people! I might screw up more, I might trip and fall or forget my lines. I might just be laughed off the stage. Oh god, why is this happening to me? Why am I standing in front of a huge crowd of..."_

* * *

"PEOPLE!" Hammie screamed as he bolted up in bed in a cold sweat.

"ZOMBIE!" Doc shouted just as loudly as he was suddenly jarred awake nearby. After seeing Hammie and regaining his calm, Doc clutched his heart, "Damnit, kid, don't do that to people! I don't want a heart attack I'm not planning for."

"W-Where am I?" Hammie snapped out of his dreamlike haze and looked around at his unfamiliar surroundings, inside an unfamiliar dusty old building with various cots strewn about, set up only recently by the looks of things.

Doc casually looked over the bandaged Hammie, "Calm down, we're in Amity Village. We had to rig up a couple houses as infirmaries to treat the wounded."

Hammie looked around at the empty cots around him, "Then where are all the patients?

"Discharged. Still bandaged up something fierce, but they can move around. You're the last one," Doc scribbled some notes on a piece of paper.

"How long have I been out?"

"A week. You always take powernaps like that?" Doc asked without looking up from his chart.

"Sometimes…" Hammie answered as he got dressed, "So what's been going on since I've been out?"

"Everyone's pitching in for the wedding," Hammie glanced at Doc in confusion, "You know, the one you helped make possible?"

"In a week? So soon?"

Doc shrugged, "Apparently the happy couple think they've gone through enough already and want to get the ceremony done as soon as possible. So everyone's pitching in."

* * *

"Y-you sure this is necessary?" the poor villager asked as he looked over the largest variety of explosives he'd ever seen, more than had ever been on the entire island at any given point in time.

Michael sat cross-legged in front of the vulgar display of homemade rockets, cannons, and bombs, grinning widely like the madman he was, "What're ye talkin' bout? 'Course it's necessary! Can't have a proper party without a fireworks show!"

"But there's enough explosives here to burn the entire island to the ground! Where did you even find that much gunpowder?" asked the villager in disbelief.

"Improvised with a few lil' home recipes so we could get more bang for our buck," Michael started tinkering with a few of the rockets, violently smashing together parts with a hammer in a way that the villager was sure was going to blow up the entire stash.

The villager started backing away from the giant powder kegs, some literal, "All the same, I think I'm going to get someone to make sure this is all safe…"

Michael growled back, "Safe? 'Course it ain't safe! Wouldn't be worth the trouble if it was safe! Get whoever you want, I have to add more fireworks!"

_M-More?_ Thought the villager as he ran off to get whomever could to make sure the island didn't go up in flames.

* * *

"This will be a true test of my skill," Takashi surveyed the kitchen, moving certain objects around, altering the very feng shui of the room to his liking, "An entire wedding cake made only by my blades."

Several villagers gathered near the kitchen entrance, unsure of how close they could get safely, "Um… we're all cooks too. We can help."

Takashi drew one of his swords, causing the other cooks to flinch, "You'll only interfere. I don't want your blood on my dish."

"Er… Is there any way we can help?" One of the chefs managed to squeak out.

Takashi didn't respond for a moment, instead opting to draw a second sword, "I suppose you can keep that corner stacked with fresh, proper ingredients. But do not disturb my meditation while doing so. Otherwise, I will not guarantee that you will live to see the ceremony. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes, sir!" the cooks enthusiastically but quietly went about their tasks preparing the ingredients for Takashi.

* * *

"Is this really the best fabric you have on the island?" Jude eyed the many colorful scraps in front of him.

"The best we could find, yeah," Wendy answered nervously, hoping that this would be enough.

Jude picked up some of the fabrics and grimaced, "Hm? Well, I'd like to say I've worked with worse but I'm not sure I actually have."

"No good?" Wendy asked disappointed.

Jude thought for a moment before starting to better organize the various fabrics, "I might be able to make something resembling a presentable dress for you out of it. I designed many of my own costumes you know. Now, let's talk colors."

Wendy raised an eyebrow, "Um… Aren't wedding dresses supposed to be white?"

"White? Heavens no! Next thing you'll tell me you'll be wanting to wear a veil," Jude laughed at Wendy, who felt foolish and confused as Jude started matching fabrics, "Besides, it's after Labor Day. Let's see… red doesn't really match your complexion. Some blue and green perhaps, have some nice sea colors in there. Ooh, and some yellow ribbon trim…"

* * *

"Everyone's pitching in, huh?" Hammie and Doc talked as they walked through the now relatively bustling streets, men and fishmen alike working together to clean up the streets, repair buildings, and pry the boards off the windows. A few of either race were sitting at the bar laughing and relaxing over drinks, "I feel kind of guilty lying in bed all this time."

"Yes, yes, we're all very disappointed with how little you've done for the island," Doc muttered without really caring as he looked over Hammie's patient chart some more. "So since I'm your current physician, I need to ask. Do you have any medical conditions I need to worry about? Genetic factors? Diseases? Prescriptions? Allergies?"

"Not really. Well, actually…" Hammie paused, thinking.

"Yes?" Doc looked up intrigued, as if some great mystery was about to be revealed.

"Eating dairy kind of gives me gas. Does that count?" Hammie offered.

Doc blinked a couple times before tossing the lot of papers to the wind, "Let's go. Wendy and Brody wanted to talk to you once you'd woken up."

The two walked through town until they came to another building, one with a broken barber pole by the front door, but just before Hammie could enter, he was interrupted by a loud shriek. "AAAAAAGH!" Hammie rushed inside, expecting to find the scene of some sort of grisly murder. He found Brody and Kitsushi laying in barber chairs, hands tightly gripping the quickly shredding armrests as Mambo's tendrils operated a series of tools in both of their mouths at once.

"You don't have to do this, you know. This is my burden, not yours," Brody's voice protested.

It was Kitsushi's voice that responded, "Bull shark crap! If I hadn't screwed everything up, you wouldn't have to go through this twice. This is my atonement for - AAAGH!" he screamed as Mambo flinched.

"Stop talkin, ya bricks-for-brains sea slug!" Mambo scolded as he tried to manipulate the dental drill through Kitsushi talking, "I can't do dental work while ya're flappin' your mouth!"

"Yeah, it'll only hurt more if you – AAAGH!" Brody screamed equally as loud.

"YOU TOO, BRODY! For crying out loud, ya think ya'd have known betta from last time!"

Hammie watched in horror and confusion as the doctor operated on both patients' mouths, "W-what's going on here?"

Brody tried to smile and greeted, "Hammie! You're aw-AAAGH!"

"HOLD YA TONGUE!" Mambo reprimanded as Hammie flinched from the painful screams, "Sorry, Hammie, dey're in da middle of cosmetic dental work. Brody needs his teeth filed back down and Kitsushi decided to join in for some reason. They couldn't figya out who should go first so dey made me work on both of 'em at once."

"It's my atonem-AAAGH!" Kitsushi tried to explain before screaming in pain.

"Um… okay…" Hammie watched the display awkwardly as a shrill screaming noise grew closer from the distance until something shot through the window and tackled him to the ground.

"haaaAAAMMIIIIIEEEEE!" Wendy grasped her arms tightly around the still recovering Hammie, "Ohyoureall rightthankgoodnessI thoughtyouwere nevergoingtowakeup!"

"Wendy, you shouldn't be in h-AAAGH!" Brody tried to speak again.

"Next time, I'm takin' ya jaw and hangin' it unda a sign sayin' no talkin' in da operatin' room!" Mambo shouted.

Finally giving up on speaking for the time being, Brody started gesturing with his hands. "What is it Brody?" Wendy tried to make sense of the gestures. Brody gestured some more until Wendy finally understood as Brody attempted to communicate through sign language, "Oh, Charades! I can do charades. Four words. First word. Sea Cucumber? No, okay. Hands. Two hands. Praying. Bowl. Give? Give! It's give! The first word's give!" Wendy jumped up and down excitedly despite Brody' frustrations, "Okay, second word! Pointing. Hammie? Hammie, you're the second word! Isn't that great?" Brody rolled his eyes and continued. "Fourth word? But didn't you skip one? Rectangle. Square. Box. Box? Something inside the box? On top of the box? Octopus? Twine? String? Little brown packages tied up with string? Cause that just happens to be one of my favorite things! Gift? Oh, gift! The fourth word's gift!" Brody gave two thumbs up, hopefully that little challenge was over. "So it's 'Give Hammie blank Gift'! So what's the third word?" Wendy carefully concentrated on Brody's nonverbal language. "Forehead? Anger? Pain? Frustration? You know you shouldn't be hitting your head like that while someone's got a drill in your mouth."

"AAAGH!"

* * *

A few minutes later, Hammie and Wendy were walking out to the bay, Doc having left to go attend to some other duties (by which he meant pass out on booze). Wendy shrugged her shoulders with disappointment. "I can never get that third word," she whined.

Hammie chuckled weakly as he tried changing the subject, "So, you got me a gift? You didn't have to do that."

Wendy instantly transformed back into her normally cheerful self, even more so than usual it seemed as she skipped ahead, "I know it's traditionally the other way around at weddings, but you've done so much for us that we had to find some way to show our appreciation," she suddenly turned back around to Forte, a little more nervous than before, "But first, I've got to ask you a favor."

"Sure, what is it?" Hammie nodded.

"Well," Wendy traced lines in the dirt with her shoe, "We don't exactly have a priest or a judge on the island. But a ship's captain can marry people, right?"

"I think so, yeah."

"You see, we've got three captains on the island. Brody's the groom and Kitsushi's the best man, which means the only other person qualified to perform the ceremony is you," Wendy pointed at Hammie, who stood wide-eyed, "Captain Hammie, would you offishi.. offisi.. office-e-ate… would you please marry us?" she struggled, blushing.

"I'd… I'd be honored!" Hammie said excitedly, "I hate to get technical though, but don't I need a ship to be a ship's captain?"

Wendy grinned widely, "And now we get to the gift part!" Wendy ran to the shore and whistled as loud as she could, which, given her lungpower, was fairly loud to say the least. A few moments later something peaked out behind some of the larger rocks in the bay, floating forward until Hammie could see the entirety of the ship that came into view. Not the navy ship he sailed here on, nor the fishmen's old headquarters. However, Hammie could recognize bits and pieces from both ships patched together on this one, along with scraps of many different models and makes of ship. It floated nearer, manned by a skeleton crew of men and fishmen, with Charlie Sunkissed at the helm, "I know it's not much. We took every usable part we could find from all the shipwrecks in the bay. Everyone who could was patching it together all week! I hope you don't mind, I already named it. Hammie, meet the Patchwork Princess! She's all yours!"

"Wendy it's…" Hammie was rendered speechless as he saw the ship. Every nail, bolt, and plank of wood was hurriedly fastened together without any sort of skill. Any self-respecting shipwright would have cringed at the workmanship, and it was obvious no one with any knowledge of how ships were put together worked on this project. Nevertheless, it had three decks, one of which was fitted with nine cannon holes: three on each side, one on the aft and one on the stern, but with only three cannons on board to split between them. It had a full house-sized cabin on the center of the upper deck where a single mast stuck out of the center like a chimney. Hammie could even see small, fresh bloodstains in some of the wood, not the result of battle but from working in overdrive to finish building the ship as fast as possible, which made sense considering it was built from scratch in a week by complete amateurs, "It's perfect! Thank you!" Hammie praised as he smiled widely with tears in his eyes. The ship itself may have needed a lot of work and wouldn't last very long on the high seas, but it was forged in the blood and sweat of the entire island just for him.

"Wait!" Wendy squealed with delight, "You haven't seen the best part yet!" She quickly darted up to the mast and started pulling the flag down so Hammie could get a better look. At a distance, it would have looked like any other skull & crossbones, the trademark symbol of any self-respecting pirate. But now that Hammie got a closer look at it, he could see the painted and re-painted careful details, as if whoever painted this particular flag kept making mistakes and had to redo their work.

The Jolly Roger itself was in the typical style of a grinning skull and crossbones, but the skull was wearing Hammie's signature bandanna, every detail carefully crafted right down to the small locks of blonde hair escaping the edge of it. In place of two bones were instead two wooden planks painted to look as if they were nailed down to patch up the flag itself.

Hammie was reduced to tears, "Wendy, this is the greatest thing anyone's ever done for me! Thank you so much!" he bawled as the two hugged tightly.

"Wendy, are you here? It's time to fit your dress," Jude called out as he boarded the ship, "Ah, dear brother, how gracious of you to join us in the world of the waking," he calmly spoke.

Wendy was jumping excitedly up and down like a kid with too much sugary cereal, "Hammie just agreed to marry us!"

Jude raised an eyebrow, "Truly? That's surprising. Performing the ceremony with everyone on the island present, I'm rather proud of you, Hammie."

Hammie's face suddenly went white, "E-everyone?"

Wendy blinked as Hammie moved to a corner and sat in the fetal position, a cloud of despair hanging over his head, "What's the matter with Hammie?"

"Oh, nothing much, just a rather desperate crushing fear of public speaking. Poor fellow can barely address a dozen men without crumbling under pressure. I'm sure he'll be fine though," Jude smiled coolly even as Hammie rocked himself back and forth in the corner of the boat.

"A-all the p-people… watching me…"

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks for the reviews. As always, they're much appreciated. Just so you know where this story stands, there will be at least 2 chapters before this "arc" is officially over. At least I'm going to try and wrap it up in 2 chapters, we'll see how plausible that is. But we've barely scratched surface of this particular crew.

My biggest problem right now is that the next arc will include several characters from the canon. I won't say who, but let's just say if you follow the manga, if you knew who it was, you could understand why I might have to rewrite and figure some stuff out. I'm trying to keep the story so that it could hypothetically fit in with the canon, but Oda's certainly making that a challenge with his plot twists.

I thought of an official name for the crew, but it hasn't been revealed in the story yet. It will be revealed by the end of this arc, at which point I'll probably change the title of the story. Speaking of which, when I finally start the next arc, that will most likely be posted separately. Future arcs will also be much longer too. I'll probably take a break to do some artwork of the characters and post it on deviantart or something. We'll see.

Anyway, reviews are always greatly appreciated. If you have questions or spot an error, let me know. I can fix minor grammatical and spelling stuff if by chance I missed something.

Oh, and to Ysaye: I'm not revealing who Hammie's father is persay, but you'll probably figure it out by the end of the arc. Here's a hint: It's not anyone in the canon of One Piece, but you still might be able to guess his name. Have fun with that little brain teaser!


	19. The Ceremony and the Reception

_It was the night before the wedding,_

_One that didn't just bind two people in love,_

_But would serve to mend the ancient rift between man and fishman,_

_Even if it was just on one tiny little island in the North Blue sea,_

* * *

For about a week the whole island had pitched in, fixing up buildings, putting up decorations, and preparing for the big day. Many people worked without sleep for several nights in a row, but the night before was one of rest for the entire island.

Exhausted, most of the island slept peacefully under the moonlight, only some small torches still lighting up the town's main streets.

Hammie stayed in one of the cabins of his new ship, even if it only barely qualified as such. There was little furniture, mostly spare stools, benches, and other leftovers from the hasty construction. Nevertheless, he wouldn't be sleeping tonight. Instead, he obsessed over the text in a book of marriage vows, reciting the script over and over in hope that it would somehow make his duties tomorrow easier. It was too late to back out of officiating now, not that he would.

Most of the buildings were dark except for the bar which still had a few low-lit lanterns. The bartender had gone home for the day. Boys his age needed their rest. Doc tended the bar for the time being, a feeling he relished since most sane bartenders knew better than to let someone like him have free access to the merchandise. The only other two were his companions: Michael, who rambled on loudly about something Doc had long since stopped paying attention to, and Takashi, who sat still and rigidly on his bar stool, so much so that in the dim lighting he could have been mistaken for a decoration if not for the occasional raising of a cup of sake to his lips. If Michael's antics bothered the swordsman, he gave no indication as such. This was a familiar scene to the three of them, although normally they'd be sharing drinks like this just after 'leaving' an old crew and just before 'recruiting themselves' onto a new one.

A fourth soul soon joined them, whose brightly colored red and gold suit only shone even more in the low-lit bar. Jude carefully analyzed his reflection in a nearby wall mirror, making sure his hair was stylized perfectly, his white collar was ruffled correctly, and his mask was aligned properly. The only half of his face that ever showed smiled in appreciation at what hard work, good grooming, and a healthy investment in one's appearance could accomplish.

Nevertheless, he sighed, "My last outfit. Everything else is ruined."

Michael raised his glass, slurring his speech slightly more than usual, "And it only burns me eyes slightly less than when ye were naked."

"If you're worried about getting your clothes wet, you're in the wrong line of work," Doc chuckled.

Jude shrugged and responded, "It is a necessary sacrifice for my art. I suppose it is for the best, though. Although they were my finest suits, one's wardrobe should be constantly changing like autumn leaves."

"Yer damn straight ye need new clothes," Michael laughed, "Ye look like a colorblind, retarded peacock!"

"And just what does your 'art' have to do with pirating?" Doc asked as he refilled his glass with a small assortment of hard liquors and topped them off with a few capsules from his pocket that made the drink fizzle madly, "I thought you were a stage actor."

"Ah, but is not the world a stage? Is not life one grand play, and we all but the actors performing it?" Jude boldly and proudly resounded.

Doc sipped his clearly poisonous beverage, smacking his lips, "That's one hell of a cast."

"Clearly, but remember the majority of the cast are but extras. We are the main characters and have the responsibility to give our audience the performance of a lifetime."

Doc smacked his lips and added another, different-colored capsule to his drink which changed its color to a deep dark brown, "Never really considered myself a main character."

"No, you wouldn't," Jude pondered thoughtfully as he pointed and analyzed the three, "You'd be more suited to the role of the Drunken Porter. A comedy relief bit along with your friends the Fool and the…" Jude's finger paused at Takashi as he thought of a suitable role, "Scenery."

Michael swiveled around on his barstool to face the actor, "Hey, ye ain't earned the right to call me anythin' but sir, ye pompous fruitcake!"

"And he plays the part so well," Jude grinned as he spoke directly to Doc instead, "Though even if he were the rabid dog he claims to be he really should bark less."

Although the insult ate at him as well, what really set off Michael was being ignored. "Watch it, pansy! Me Boomers are fully loaded now and I ain't afraid of usin' 'em," his hands steadied over his twin pistols, still deciding whether or not they'd see some action.

Doc stepped in before the two could go at it, "Easy now, you're not supposed to get into drunken brawls until the reception. Otherwise, you'll ruin the booze." Michael didn't like backing down, but he couldn't argue with the possibility of wasting alcohol.

But it was Takashi who actually acted first, ritually setting his cup onto the table, walking around Michael and the Doc, and staring Jude in the eye.

Jude returned the glare with a grin as change, "Oh? Does your part actually have a line in this scene?"

"You fought the fishmens' swordsman, correct?" the swordsman asked emotionlessly.

"In a brilliant performance, if I do say so myself," Jude boasted.

Takashi's gaze swept over Jude a few times, though neither made any move for their blade, "When you fully recover from your injuries, we shall cross swords. Only one of us can be superior."

"Is that important to you? Being superior? In what, might I ask: swordplay or cooking?"

"You speak as if there is truly a difference," were Takashi's last calm words as he walked out of the bar.

Michael grinned and relaxed his muscles as he turned to follow the swordsman, "Well, looks like Takashi's takin' a shine to ye. He doesn't like it much when I play with his toys, so ye get to enjoy yer drink a bit longer."

"And exit the clown and his silent foil," Jude remarked as he watched the two leave.

Doc on the other hand, still had perfectly good booze to consume, "There's one thing I don't get about you."

"Only one?" Jude frowned, "I must work on my air of mystery."

"If you like the spotlight so much, how come you made your brother be captain?"

Jude's frown morphed into a cheshire cat grin, "Oh, I have my reasons. Let us just say that one with my experience on the stage has earned the right to choose his roles with scrutiny."

"It just seems to me that the best role would be the captain," Doc reasoned.

"Only to one so foolish as to assume they know the script," Jude chided in response.

Doc was forced to pause between sips, "You know, talking to Takashi or Michael is like talking to a wall. Talking to you is like talking to a wall with a playbill posted on it."

* * *

In the tiny, half disassembled shack on the other side of the island, the soon-to-be married couple lay under the sheets in each other's arms.

"I thought we weren't supposed to do this until after the wedding," Brody remarked.

"We've waited too long already," Wendy smiled as she snuggled in closer, only to hear a brief sigh of worry from Brody's chest, "What's wrong? Does your mouth still hurt?"

Brody sighed, "No, it's not that. I'm just thinking."

"You were thinking about Hammie, right?"

Brody stared at Wendy in shock, "What? No, I'd never! Why would you think-"

"You know what I mean, dummy!" Wendy giggled.

"Oh…" Brody calmed down, "Yeah, a little bit."

"Penny for your thoughts?" Wendy asked.

Brody sighed, "Hammie's probably going to leave for the Grand Line soon. Now that he has a ship and all."

"That was the idea, yeah," Wendy agreed.

"I don't know if he even stands a chance at surviving. He barely made it to this island in one piece and not without sinking two ships in the process. He doesn't even have a navigator."

"Does he really need one?" Wendy asked.

"You need a top-notch navigator just to enter the Grand Line. The whole region is extremely dangerous, but most of the fatalities happen at the entrance," Brody explained.

"Why? What's at the entrance?"

"Reverse Mountain," Brody continued, "Currents from all four major seas meet at a single point of land mass. The current there is so powerful that it actually flows up the mountain. It's pretty much impossible to steer once you're in the current, and when you reach the top you have to make a sharp turn to the one downward current on the mountain. Slide down the mountain and you're in the Grand Line.

"Wow…" Wendy marveled in amazement at Brody's descriptions.

"That's not all. Once you're there, compasses won't work and the weather constantly changes from everything from storms to blizzards to heat waves. The currents are very deceiving too, and if you don't check your course constantly you'll go way off course in no time."

"So how do you navigate around the Grand Line?" Wendy asked.

"You'd need a Log Pose. They're hard to find outside the Grand Line, but instead of pointing north they lock onto the magnetic field of a particular island and guide you there. Then once you're at that island for a particular period of time, the Log Pose will lock onto the magnetic field of the next island."

"Sounds difficult," Wendy commented.

"And that's just the generic stuff, not even including island-specific stuff. It takes an experienced navigator just to survive."

"You could do it, couldn't you?" Wendy offered.

Brody paused in surprise, "Well, yeah, but… I can't."

"Why not?"

Brody locked eyes with his fiancé who laid her head on his chest, "You realize what you're asking right? It's not like you could come with us. I don't know if I could protect you from everything there, and I can't worry about you getting hurt."

Wendy sighed as if she was missing out on someone's birthday party, "I figured. I don't want to be holding everyone back. But that doesn't mean you couldn't go."

"What about… us?" Brody said worriedly.

"I'll always be yours, stupid," Wendy said with a kiss, "But what other choice is there? Let Hammie go get killed on his own? After everything he's done for us? I couldn't live with myself if something happened to him, something you might've been able to prevent if you were there. You know you couldn't either."

"Wendy…"

"I'll be here waiting for you. I'll be patient. Besides, we probably have a few nights before they leave. We'll just make the most of it," she reassured.

Brody resigned himself to his fiancé's way of thinking, "I'll be back as soon as I know Hammie can survive without me. I love you.

Wendy smiled satisfyingly as she cuddled in closer to Brody, "I know."

* * *

The next day, the sun shone brightly as the entire island was ready to see the fruition of its hard work. Everyone gathered in the main street of Amity Village, standing in unison and waiting for the ceremony. Unfortunately, there weren't enough chairs left for everyone since most of them had been disassembled for spare wood. That hadn't stopped people from trying to decorate the place, however, as a hastily constructed archway of spare wood had been cobbled together over the boarding ramp to the Patchwork Princess, the ship matching its style in craftsmanship. Wildflowers wrapped around the archway and decorated the buildings on either side, and someone had scraped together enough paper to put up streamers between all of the buildings.

Off to the side, Charlie Sunkissed sat at an old piano that had been wheeled out of the saloon, since there was no church organ available, still wearing a thick uncomfortable iron neck brace, the only part of the cannon they had yet to be able to remove. Or at least that's what both doctors told him when Charlie mentioned it would be impossible for him to sing with the weight on his throat.

The music started playing and the crowd parted to form an aisle for the bride and groom to walk down. Although he sang like a strangled seagull, Charlie could still play the piano with a decent amount of skill. Jude accompanied him on a violin one of the villagers had scavenged from one of the previously "forbidden" buildings.

Brody and Wendy strode arm-in-arm ceremoniously down the aisle as the music played, some of the villagers spreading flower petals in their wake. Brody wore his usual "captain's uniform," that being the torn leather jacket. He would justify to himself that this jacket bore the battle scars of all of his years with his crew, and was more like a soldier's uniform and medals so he had to wear it. Of course the real reason was that there weren't any tuxedoes on the island large enough to fit a brute like Brody. Nevertheless it was Wendy's dress that drew the attention. Unlike everything else at the ceremony, the dress looked like an expensive designer model, with beautiful pastel blue and green patterns criss-crossing all across the gown. Not a single stray seam was showing and there were just enough flowers and ribbon to accentuate the dress's aesthetics rather than seem tacky or gaudy. Anyone would assume the dress had taken months' to design and craft to perfection, not sewn in a week by a certain zealous actor.

Standing at the archway and boarding ramp that would serve as the altar for the wedding were the best man and the officiant. Since Hammie was technically on the ship and was captain of it, this satisfied traditional requirements for a wedding ceremony. No one could find any formal clothes in Kitsushi's size, so he too was stuck wearing his usual attire, and the best anyone could find for Hammie was a black cloak reminiscent of a judge or priest.

Fashion faux pas were the last thing on anyone's mind, though with one exception. No one in the crowd really understood why Hammie wore a blindfold, especially while holding the book with the ceremony in it. No one said anything and the ceremony continued with Brody and Wendy walking up to the altar as the music came to a close.

After a minute or so of silence, Kitsushi nudged Hammie with his elbow. Hammie startled and quickly began the service, "Dearly beloved, we gather here today to join Brody Martin…"

"Um, Hammie, I'm over here," Brody whispered as Hammie had motioned to where the bride was standing when he said Brody's name. There was a brief pause of silence with a snicker coming from Michael in the audience.

"We gather here today," Hammie started again, "to join Brody Martin and Wendy Watterman in loving matrimony."

Then for a while the ceremony continued without any shenanigans. Despite being blindfolded, Hammie had the words memorized and had little difficulty.

"Now, please present the rings."

"Um, Hammie…" Wendy whispered, "Brody's already got his on."

Hammie paused for a second, "Huh?"

"Well, it's kind of a complicated process and all, putting a ring on a webbed hand, so we did that earlier."

Hammie hesitated again, trying to process that particular image, "How does a fishman put on a ring anyway?"

"With a scalpel, a good doctor with a steady hand, some precise stitching, and lots of pain medication," Brody answered, flinching from the recent memory.

"Oh…" A few moments of awkward silence passed again as Hammie started sweating nervously, "Um, where was I?"

"Oh, for Poseidon's sake!" said Brody as he reached forward and ripped off the blindfold.

Hammie instantly turned several shades of white as his eyes opened wide and stayed that way, unblinking at the crowd assembled before him. Now he was completely silent. Finally his mouth started slightly moving, though no sound came out. Slowly Hammie brought the book out to cover his face.

"Brody, I think you broke him," Wendy said worriedly, "Hammie? You okay?" There was a slight mumbling noise, and everyone leaned in closer.

Eventually Brody, Wendy, and Kitsushi could make out a word or two every couple sentences, "…marriage…vows…bride…"

"He's still technically performing the ceremony," Brody realized.

"Yeah, but I can't hear a thing," Wendy said, "What do we do now?"

The crowd stood awkwardly, but not nearly as much as the bridge, groom, and best man who tried to figure out the best way to 'fix' Hammie for several minutes.

Suddenly, a distant shout came from the back of the crowd, "Marine ship spotted!" The entire crowd turned to look. Sure enough, circling around the island some distance away was a navy ship. With everyone at the wedding, there was no one to keep watch or spot it sooner. The crowd panicked and soon broke, most hiding, but some taking to potential battle stations, just in case. After all, the only ship docked at their harbor still flew a pirate flag.

"Scuse me, I have to start the celebrations, a lil' early," Michael grinned as he split off from the crowd and skipped off.

Hammie's eyes suddenly snapped back into focus, the eyes of the crowd no longer on him, as he grabbed Brody and Wendy by the collar, "Quickly! Brody, do you?"

"Wha… Do I what?" Brody asked, still disoriented from the unfolding events.

"Do you want to marry her or not?"

"Yeah, of course I do!"

"Wendy, do you?"

"I do?" Wendy offered.

"Good! You're married! Kiss her! I'm out of here!" Hammie threw off his official robe and rushed onto the ship, hurriedly getting the Patchwork Princess ready to sail. Jude, Takashi, and the Doc leapt from the crowd after him, not wanting to get left behind.

"Don't worry, I'll go distract them!" said Kitsushi as he dove into the ocean and swam in the direction of the marine ship, leaving the two standing at the altar, just married even in this chaos.

Brody looked into his new wife's eyes sorrowfully. He'd thought he'd at least get a night or two, "Wendy…"

Tears welled up in Wendy's eyes, but she smiled and held them back, "I know. You better hurry, or they'll leave you behind."

"But I can't just…" Brody tried to object, words failing him, "What about us?"

Wendy shook her head, "I'll be fine here. You're needed somewhere else. We can put off the honeymoon until later. Besides, isn't that the norm? The pirate goes out on the high seas and the wife stays home and waits for his return? Kind of romantic ain't it?"

"Wendy…" Before Brody could stall longer, Wendy pulled him in for a long, deep kiss, as both of them shed streaming tears. The moment seemed to last forever, and both wished it would, but it was Wendy who had to break off as she pushed Brody further across the loading plank across the ship.

"Now get going, you big lug or you'll get left behind!" Even as she yelled out her farewells, the ship's anchor was raised as the Patchwork Princess drifted away from the shore, the loading dock falling into the water.

Brody stood on the rail of the deck and yelled back, "I'll come back for you! I promise!"

Wendy widely smiled as she waved back, "If you don't, I'll come get you myself! I promise that!" The ship was on its way though, and soon they'd be too far to even yell, as Wendy wiped some stray tears on the sleeve of her wedding dress, "Big, dumb husband of mine…"

* * *

"Is it time for the next action scene already?"

"Let them come and taste steel…"

"You're sure we can get away with this scrapheap?"

Jude, Takashi, and Doc respectively stood on the deck of the brand new scrapheap of a ship, the latter testing rails and floorboards looking for a single spot that didn't seem like it'd fall apart at a moment's notice. He couldn't find one.

"It's all we've got, so it'll have to do!" Hammie yelled as he single-handedly pulled up the anchor and did a quick head count, "All right, all five of us are here, let's shove… Wait, Brody?" Hammie did a double-take at the presence of the fishman.

Brody gave a respectful salute, "Reporting for duty, captain!"

Hammie stared perplexed, "Didn't I just have you married? What the hell are you doing here?"

"You aren't going to get far without a decent navigator, so here I am," Brody responded.

"But what about-?"

Brody interrupted, "Wendy and I already talked it over. This is a temporary arrangement until you can make it on your own. Then I'm going back for my wife. Still feels weird saying that," he commented aside to himself, "Anyway, we don't have time to argue."

Hammie briefly hesitated, but nodded in agreement. He could recognize stubbornness and Brody was right. He didn't have time or the resources to be able to refuse Brody's help, "All right, welcome aboard. But if you're here, then…" Hammie did a brief recount. Still only five people, which meant someone was missing, "Where's Michael?"

But before long the familiar smell of alcohol-soaked gunpowder presented itself just as the Michael clumsily climbed on board, "Don't worry, ye pretty lil' lasses, I'm here. Just had to put me affairs in order."

Brody glared suspiciously, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Michael leered back and scowled, "The hell is Fishstick doing here? I didn't think we were takin' sushi to go."

"Well, someone has to fill the eyebrow quota on the crew since you're lacking," Brody didn't miss a beat, "Not to mention covering up the stink."

"Bite me, guppie!" Michael barked as he helped himself over the railing and stood on the deck.

"Don't tempt me, worm!"

"GUYS!" Hammie interjected, "We've got a ship to flee in!"

"Keep yer pants on, Hammie, I was just lightin' the fuse," Michael said mischievously.

"Wait, what fuse?" Right on cue, a large series of loud booms echoed from the distance. Fearing cannonfire, both Hammie and Brody ducked before they turned to see the source. Michael just turned to gaze at his masterpiece as a storm of fireballs arced off of the island and rained down all around the marine ship. The explosions and whistles of fireworks continued in furious displays of colored flames showering the ship and everything around it in napalm.

Michael beamed with pride, "That should buy us some time, eh?"

"You were going to set that off at my wedding reception?" Brody turned to Michael in rage, "That would have incinerated everything and everyone on the island!"

Hammie put a hand on Brody's shoulder to stop him from wringing Michael's neck right then and there, "Look at the bright side, Brody. That's that much gunpowder he can't sink our ship with later."

* * *

_Meanwhile, aboard the marine ship…_

"Captain, the fires are everywhere!"

"Stay calm, men!" If the sight of Captain Douglas, Mr. January for the Official Navy 'Handsome Marine Hunks' calendar, with his chest exposed and his officer's jacket blowing in the wind could've been any more impressive, it would've been right this very moment, when everything around him was on fire. Even with a minor bandage on his head that his first mate insisted he wore ever since he slipped on the rail and hit his head on the deck of his old ship, Captain Douglas was a sight to behold, his eyes steeled and his confident smile rigid even in the face of incineration, "Take your stations! Get those fires out immediately!"

His overzealous cabin boy, Chapa, was running across the ship to keep up with the flames, outpacing the rest of the marines as he did so, "Sir, the bombardment seems to be coming from the island! Should we retaliate?"

Douglas just confidently smiled, the light from the flames glaring off his smile, "No, Chapa my boy. This island isn't going anywhere. That ship with the pirate flag, however, is making a break for it. Besides, it was less likely the islanders attacking us and more likely a cunning trap set up by the very pirates we're pursuing. Investigate the island now and we'll lose them to Reverse Mountain for sure. Vezzali, what's the status on the target!"

On cue, first mate Valentina Vezzali, clad in full fencing uniform, ignored the flames and spied on their target pirate ship with a telescope, "It's different ship from before. I don't recognize the make, but on first sight it appears to be of poor quality. We should have no trouble catching up to it. Wait…" As Vezzali spoke, the ship that should've moved at a snail's pace suddenly picked up speed, going much farther than even this marine ship could hope to match at top speed, "Captain, they've picked up a huge burst of speed!"

"What? How?"

Vezzali shook her head, "I don't know, sir, it's as if a sudden windstorm suddenly filled their sails, but we're not picking up anything of the sort!"

Douglas pondered the situation, thoughtfully stroking his chin as Chapa put out two more small fires nearby, "Anything on the island?"

"I'm… I'm not sure…"

"Report on anything unusual you see!" Douglas confidently ordered, "We don't know if there are Devil Fruit users among them."

Vezzali briefly paused, "There's a girl in a wedding dress standing on the cape. It appears she's blowing in their direction."

Douglas raised one of his thick eyebrows, "Come again?"

"In all fairness, sir, you did say to report on anything unusual."

Douglas nodded thoughtfully, "I understand. There are reports of many shipwrecks in the area…" In a sudden flash of insight, Douglas pointed to the heavens and boldly declared his conclusion, "That must be the spirit of a bride lost at sea, filling their sails with the power of **LOVE**!"

Vezzali stayed quiet, knowing better than to try and correct the captain's judgment, but the cabin boy Chapa gazed at his captain with admiration, "That's amazing, sir! How will we ever compete with that?"

"In order to combat the power of love, we'll have to use something equally powerful, and what we have as marines is **PRIDE**!" Douglas boldly shouted to his troops, "Come, marines! Put out those fires with your manly spirit and fill our sails with **PRIDE**!"

"**YEAH**!" Chapa and all of the marines cheered with a newfound spirit as the troops worked harder and faster than before to put out the flames. Vezzali, used to such antics from her fellow marines, just sort of went along with it all.

"I won't let you leave this place!" echoed a voice suddenly as something shot out of the water and crashed onto the deck.

Chapa pointed at the big, blue monster that leapt onto the deck, "Captain! What is that thing?"

Kitsushi assumed his fighting stance, ready to take on the entire crew of marines should it be necessary, "I am Captain Kitsushi of the Tiburones Gemelos, and I will not let you-"

"Clearly it is another spirit, one of **VENGEANCE**!" said Captain Douglas boldly before the intruder could finish his introduction.

"Really?" Chapa asked excitedly.

Kitsushi stayed ready, but confused, "What are you going on about?"

"It must be what's haunting the island and trapping all the other spirits! The only course of action is to exorcise its presence," Douglas proudly stepped forward.

Chapa was still trying to figure out the whole spirit concept, "How do we do that?"

Douglas pointed in challenge to the giant fishman, "Emotion must fight emotion, which is why I'll fight it with the power of my **MANLY FIGHTING SPIRIT**!"

"Of course!" It all seemed so obvious to Chapa once his captain explained it.

Kitsushi blinked in disbelief, "You're all looney." _Still,_ he reasoned, _If I can manage to take out their captain quickly, maybe I can get the rest to surrender. So I'd better go all out and take him out in one strike._ "**Fishman Karate Secret Technique**…" As Kitsushi began the maneuver, the water of the ocean gathered up behind him.

"Your presence isn't welcome here, spirit! Feel the mighty justice burning in my fist!" Douglas challenged.

Kitsushi ignored the captain as his leg raised to strike, "**Foxtail**…" The water spiraled behind him into a whirlpool, and finally formed a dragon out of the swirling currents which enveloped his entire body, "**Water Dragon**…" Kitsushi and the water dragon launched forward simultaneously, Kitsushi's powerful kick combined with the force of the strongest blast of water he could muster into a single point, "**Spear**!"

Douglas stared down the attack the size of a Sea King, and only confidently smiled as he met it straight on, charging forward and rearing back his fist, "**DOUGLAS PUNCH**!" His arm launched forward, his and Kitsushi's attack meeting at both of their epicenters. The contact alone unleashed a shockwave of pure force powerful enough to crack the deck from one end of the deck to the other.

But it was the water dragon that gave in, exploding into a harmless shower that doused the remainder of the flames.

Kitsushi was stunned, not able to remember a time when the force of his kick was outright stopped, "W-what the…?"

But that wasn't all as Douglas kept pushing, "**Begone spirit**!" A few sharp cracks and searing pain told Kitsushi about the broken cartilage in his leg as it was forced back by Douglas's fist, until his entire body was lifted off the ground and sent flying back to the island before Kitsushi could discern just how much he was outclassed. The crew cheered at the picturesque scene of their beloved captain having slain the dragon and the spirit in vengeance in one manly spirit filled punch, "See! The flames of its rage have been quelled! Now, let's catch up to those pirates!" And so the marines set off to catch up to their pirate prey with new fire in their hearts.

_To be continued…_

**Author's Notes: **I'm hoping to wrap this arc up next chapter, which means it'll be a doozy. For those of you that remember Captain Douglas and his crew earlier on, next chapter you get to see how he really fights. And for those of you wondering how Chapa single-handedly took on several of the pirate crew at once, you'll get an answer to that next time too.

Heh, looks like I got some people wondering with Hammie's father. Like I said, there's a good chance at least someone will figure it out after next chapter. Just so no one's tearing their hair out trying to figure this out, I'll say it's not a character in any of the One Piece canon or filler, nor is it a character from any other fanfics here (as far as I know anyway). I will say as a hint to remember the One Piece tradition of naming/modeling important characters in One Piece after actual historical figures.

Next chapter will be a doozy and will take a while, but hopefully it'll be worth it.


	20. The Battle of Reverse Mountain

_"It's all we've got, so it'll have to do!" Hammie yelled as he single-handedly pulled up the anchor and did a quick head count, "All right, all five of us are here, let's shove… Wait, Brody?" Hammie did a double-take at the presence of the fishman._

_Brody gave a respectful salute, "Reporting for duty, captain!"_

_Hammie stared perplexed, "Didn't I just have you married? What the hell are you doing here?"_

_"You aren't going to get far without a decent navigator, so here I am," Brody responded._

* * *

_Douglas stared down the attack the size of a Sea King, and only confidently smiled as he met it straight on, charging forward and rearing back his fist, "**DOUGLAS ****PUNCH**!" His arm launched forward, his and Kitsushi's attack meeting at both of their epicenters. The contact alone unleashed a shockwave of pure force powerful enough to crack the deck from one end of the deck to the other._

_But it was the water dragon that gave in, exploding into a harmless shower that doused the remainder of the flames._

_Kitsushi was stunned, not able to remember a time when the force of his kick was outright stopped, "W-what the…?"_

_But that wasn't all as Douglas kept pushing, "**Be gone ****spirit**!" A few sharp cracks and searing pain told Kitsushi about the broken cartilage in his leg as it was forced back by Douglas's fist, until his entire body was lifted off the ground and sent flying back to the island before Kitsushi could discern just how much he was outclassed. The crew cheered at the picturesque scene of their beloved captain having slain the dragon and the spirit in vengeance in one manly spirit filled punch, "See! The flames of its rage have been quelled! Now, let's catch up to those pirates!" And so the marines set off to catch up to their pirate prey with new fire in their hearts._

* * *

The sudden burst of wind filled the sails like a localized cyclone, propelling the ship far faster than everyone had ever experienced, save Brody who knew the sensation all too well. What should have been a multiple day journey took only a matter of hours, making the rapid shift in weather all too jarring. When the Patchwork Princess launched from Jaggerjaw Island, the seas were calm and the skies were clear. The shift to full gray storm clouds which blotted out the sun and roaring waves the size of houses was even more sudden due to their speed. Only now did their personal windstorm dissipate as Hammie's crew was left to the mercy of the elements.

"Ey, fishstick!" Michael shouted with irritation as he struggled to raise the sails, "Didn'tya say ye were gonna be the navigator? Aren't navigators s'posed to avoid crap like this or do ye just suck?"

Brody ignored the inflammatory pyromaniac for now as he secured the rope around his waist, Hammie holding the other end. "Remember, wait ten seconds, then pull me back in as hard as you can."

"You're sure about this?" Hammie asked with uncertainty.

"Trust me, I've been doing this for years." Brody leapt off the deck rail and dove into the churning waters below. Hammie held the rope taut even as the ocean tried to drag it and the whole ship under.

_9__… __10!_ Hammie counted in his mind as he yanked the rope back, hurling Brody back onto the deck with a single tug.

"It's still crazy that a human can do that," Brody said dizzily. "We're on the right course. The currents will do most of the work for us, but once we get close enough to see Reverse Mountain, we'll need to get the angle exactly right. Once we're in the full strength of the current, we won't be able to even make slight alterations to our course without breaking the rudder."

Hammie set to work repairing the rapidly multiplying weather damages to the ship and Brody immediately took the helm. Michael, Takashi, and Doc all pitched in to sail through the storm, each being a competent and experienced sailor in their own right, all without having to take any orders. Attempting to direct them would have probably would have just ensured their noncompliance anyway. Jude spent the time napping in the ship's cabin, as no one had any time to try and get him to do any work. Not that Jude had much reason to brave the storm while there was no audience to astound and amaze while doing so. Besides, this was his last good suit, he'd just had it cleaned on the island, and manual labor in a storm would have simply wasted the effort.

"We're getting close!" Brody shouted above the storm.

"How can you tell?" Hammie shouted back, "I can barely see a foot beyond the ship!"

"There! In the distance!" Sure enough, when Hammie looked ahead, the fog parted to reveal the the towering mountain piercing the sky like a spear on the horizon, growing ever larger by the minute.

"We have to sail…" Hammie had to lean back as they approached the mountain, taking in the size of it, "…up that?"

"That's right," Brody replied, "And we have to get the angle perfect so we don't crash on the sides."

"The sides of what? How do you sail up a-" As Hammie questioned the logic of the situation, and as the mountain drew closer, he could see a single solitary river directly ahead of them, the water surging up towards the peak of the mountain, and somewhere in Hammie's brain the part that thought it understood how physics worked ceased to function. "Oh. So what happens at the top?"

"We have to make a sharp turn at the very peak of the mountain to the one downward current."

"How do we do that when we can't even steer?"

Brody struggled with the wheel and had to stop himself from gritting his teeth, since they were still sore from being filed down, "One thing at a time! First, we've got to make sure nothing stops us from hitting the upward current!"

Suddenly, a massive shape out of the fog blindsided the Patchwork Princess, the noses of the ships slamming into each other. "Incoming!" The shape tore out of the fog to reveal a much larger, much better built ship of the marines, specifically that of Captain Douglas.

Unlike the previous ship that overtook their stolen fishing boat just before Jaggerjaw Island, this was a full interceptor ship, equipped to handle and even take advantage of violent storms such as these. It was no wonder that the marine ship was able to overtake them so quickly from Jaggerjaw Island. The navy interceptor cut the Patchwork Princess off from its path, the two ships now joined at the bow and grinding against each other while they both careened towards Reverse Mountain, neither changing course.

Douglas stood on the railing with a determined stare that pierced through the wind and rain, even as the two ships collided, and the majority of his crew struggled to retain their balances.

Michael grinned what he saw as a sitting target and quickly drew out his Boomers for a repeat of their last meeting. He fired two fireballs at the marine captain, but this time Douglas was ready. Right when the two blasts exploded out of the gun, Douglas had already dashed to inside Michael's guard, only inches from him. "Son of a-!" Michael cursed.

"You may have caught me off-guard last time, dishonorable pirate! But this time I'm ready for you!" Douglas's fist shot up under Michael's face, propelling the gunner skyward in a single blow. "**Douglas ****Uppercut**!" Before he could even tell what happened, Michael's body spiraled up until he crashed into the crow's nest.

Before the rest of Hammie's crew could spring into action, Captain Douglas raised his hand. "HOLD IT!" The brief hesitation allowed Douglas to continue, "We don't have to fight this time, Hammie."

The still-green pirate captain blinked a few times in confusion. "We don't?"

"No," Douglas smiled, "Don't worry. I figured out your problem from our last meeting, but the greasy one up there interrupted me before we could finish our conversation. When I slipped on the rail of my own ship…"

"Slipped? HA! Ye were bloody target practice!" Michael tried to heckle, but either couldn't be heard from the crow's nest in such a storm or was ignored by all present.

"…my crew assumed the worst and attacked you. When really it was all a misunderstanding," Douglas pointed to the heavens in confidence, "You were never the pirate captain! You were just being forced to go along with what the REAL pirates here said, isn't that right?"

"Hammie, what's he talking about?" Brody asked with concern.

"Michael Collins, Takashi 'Iron Chef' Nakamura, the man known only as Doc…" Douglas counted the pirates off, "Those three are notorious pirates, but there's no bounty on them anymore. They used to have sizeable bounties each, but every pirate crew they serve under is either captured with those three being the only escapees, or they succumb to an unfortunate accident with those three as the only survivors. Their presence neutralizes more pirates than the damage they cause. They're so infamous that the world government felt that they're better for our cause against piracy free than locked up, so the government removed the bounties from their heads."

"And ye better put it back on! I bloody earned that bounty and ye don't have any business lowerin' or removin' it," Michael shouted, increasingly annoyed with the delay in action. Takashi and Doc gave no response to Douglas's words, verbal or otherwise, but stood ready to fight the marines staring at them.

"To other pirate crews, they're known as the 'Alba-Trio', after the infamous albatross for how cursed they are. They never accept responsibility for their own actions but always work under a different captain so someone else takes the fall for their actions," Douglas boldly stated, "In other words, you're just their patsy, Hammie! I know that you didn't choose a life of piracy, and I know you feel you have no other choice right now, so I'm offering you this one chance of leniency!"

Douglas threw his arm back to point at the mountain before them, "Reverse Mountain is an entrance to the Grand Line only pirates take because of its danger and because it circumvents government-controlled traffic into the Grand Line. If you go through Reverse Mountain, you'll forever be condemned as a pirate. If you surrender to me now, I'll guarantee you and your brother's safety, and the record will go down with the two of you not as pirates but as pirate captives. You'll go free."

"Gee, that's real generous, sir, but…" Hammie said sheepishly.

"Wait!" Douglas objected, "Don't throw your life away on some misguided sense of loyalty to these pirate scum! The second it's convenient they'll betray you because that's what they do! I'll even guarantee you safe passage into the Grand Line! Just don't go down that dark, lawless road!"

Hammie seemed to hesitate for a brief moment, the offer sinking into his mind, "What's your name again?"

"Captain Douglas," the marine extended his hand in friendship. Hammie stepped forward and took it.

"Hammie!" Brody yelled, knowing that he either way he'd be classified in the 'pirate' category.

"Sorry," Hammie quietly apologized as the two grasped each other's hands, a truce in sight, "But as you should know, a captain doesn't just abandon his crew like that!" Hammie's grip tightened, and his free hand reared back to deliver a strong punch to Douglas's square jaw. The marine captain would probably have been knocked clear of the ship if Hammie hadn't been holding firmly onto him.

"Very well," Douglas grimaced, "You've made your choice. Don't say I didn't warn you! **Douglas ****Punch**!" Douglas countered with his own haymaker, hitting Hammie in the center of his chest. The boards beneath their feet cracked from the force as Hammie's grip was jerked aside and he was sent flying off the ship. The only thing saving him from being completely thrown overboard was the coiled rope and grappling hook at his waste which he swung around the yard of the Patchwork Princess, holding tight and bracing for the recoil.

"Bout bloody time we got this shindig started!" Michael grinned as he leapt out of the crow's nest head-first at Douglas, firing both Boomers repeatedly without any regard for his safety.

Explosions set off all around Douglas, but the captain paid them no mind. Instead he ran up the mast, past the falling Michael, just in time for the elasticity of Hammie's rope to jerk him back towards the ship. His free hand grabbing another tool, Hammie was hurled towards Douglas as the marine captain's fist met Hammie's hammer head on. Lightning flashed nearby, and the thunder was undistinguishable from the clash of the two forces. For that brief instant, the rain itself was expelled from the force of their clash.

"Don't ye bloody ignore me soljer boy-!" Michael ranted before falling shoulder-first onto the deck. He quickly jumped back up and cracked his sore neck, looking at the marines who had taken their captain's signal and were rapidly boarding the Patchwork Princess. "Fine. I'll jus' warm up a bit by thinnin' the herd a bit," he scowled as he cocked both guns.

Brody wanted to join in the main fray, but someone had to hold the wheel steady. Fortunately, he still had one arm and both legs to fend off any marines that tried to attack him. "Damn idiots! You're attacking a fishman in rain so thick we might as well be underwater!" Even one-handed, the water blasts exploded with the force of cannonfire and ensured that no marine could land a blow.

Meanwhile, Doc was managing to hold his own against the generic navy soldiers with nothing more than his sledgehammer and a flask he occasionally drank from. Takashi stood unusually still. "Aren't you going to fight?" Doc asked as he knocked away another soldier, "There's plenty of soldiers to go around, Takashi."

Takashi raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Where?" At that moment, two soldiers shouted in battle fury and charged Takashi swords drawn. Takashi's sword arm instinctively lashed out and cut them both down in one fell slash, but Takashi's expression remained unchanged, "There is no one here worth killing."

Doc sighed, "We're going to have to do something about that vision problem you seem to have whenever there's cleanup work to be done."

The chef shrugged nonchalantly, "I neither see nor feel nothing stronger than the rain pouring over us. Would you have me raise my sword against each individual drop?"

Doc slammed his hammer into the skull of another marine who drew too close, "And the bard's apparently taking a beauty nap. Great. Looks like it's up to you and me, Annie." the last remark directed towards the sledgehammer in his hands.

Standing out like a sore thumb among the marines was First Mate Valentina Vezzali, clad in full white fencing uniform and rapier drawn. She already had her target in mind. "Jude Carson!" she challenged. "Show yourself!"

On cue, the cabin door slowly swung open, Jude casually leaning against the door frame, rapier drawn in one hand and eating an apple in the other, smiling seductively. "You're a fortunate woman. There are a lot of women in the world who desire the ability to summon me to their presence by merely calling my name."

"Prepare yourself!" she responded confidently, "It's time we finish our duel from last time!"

"Last I recall, our little sparring match was resolved, with me coming out on top. However," Jude grinned, "I'd hate to leave a fan of mine… _dissatisfied._" Vezzali had never been more appreciative of her face-concealing mask now.

"Don't worry, ma'am!" Several of the soldiers gathered behind Vezzali. "We've got your back!"

"NO!" Vezzali loudly objected. "Er… that is, thank you, men. This opponent is very skilled, however, so I shall face him alone. Guard the door and secure the rest of the ship, and I will handle his… er… sword."

"Yes, ma'am!" The soldiers saluted in unison.

Turning her attention back to the dreamboat in front of her, Vezzali dashed forward, "En garde!" The two clashed swords within the confines of the cabin, the door slamming shut behind her.

Brody had little trouble defending his position from the waves of oncoming soldiers, some who were stupid enough to come at him more than once, but there were other problems to think about. "Hammie!" Brody yelled, "If we don't do something about their ship grinding against ours, it won't matter how many marines we beat back! Both ships will crash against the rocks!"

As the two captains traded blows while balancing on the yard of the ship, Hammie forced himself to gauge the ships' statuses. Both ships were coming into the current at 45 degree angles, their tangled bows preventing either from righting themselves. Even if the ships were untangled, only one could enter the current of Reverse Mountain and survive. The other would have to be removed from the equation entirely.

Unless…

Hammie eyeballed the river climbing up the mountain. It was difficult to tell exactly how wide it was from this distance in this storm without proper measuring equipment especially as distracted as he was. There were stone arches along the river itself, large enough for ships to pass through, and each of the same design. That at least hopefully meant the river was of uniform width the entire way up. This might work, but there was only one way…

"Don't get distracted!" Douglas had no such concern on his mind as he brought his leg around in a full circle on Hammie's head. "**Douglas ****Heel ****Drop**!" Hammie's head dropped with a loud crunch, but the crunch wasn't from Hammie himself. While Hammie was still standing, only his head knocked down, the force of the blow had cracked the yard, leaving Hammie standing on an incline.

"You…" growled Hammie silently.

"What?" scoffed Douglas. "Don't tell me you expected mercy. That ship has long sailed."

"This ship hasn't, though," Hammie looked up into Douglas's eyes with a rage unseen before. "A lot of people worked really hard to give me this ship. So stop," his arm reached up and grabbed Douglas by the ankle, "_**BREAKING MY SHIP**_!" Hammie picked up the marine captain by his leg, swung him in several circles, and threw him far off into the storm.

As the captain hurtled through the air, Hammie took a quick moment to take a deep breath and compose himself. There was still the ship to save and little time to do so. He leapt from the yard of the ship down to the deck, something that in hindsight was pretty stupid as the floor beneath him easily collapsed, leaving him on the deck below. "Damnit," he cursed to himself. "Now I've got to fix that too." Nevertheless, this was still where he needed to be. He grabbed several large coils of rope that were still stored here and whatever spare wood he could find, even the splintered boards from the hole above him. Supplies in tow, he carefully lifted himself back up above deck. He headed towards the aft of the ship where the ships were the farthest apart. Any soldiers who dared to get near him were knocked away with a single swipe of the wooden boards he carried.

When he finally reached the point where the ships were the farthest apart, Hammie swung the various ropes and launched four grappling hooks to the other ship. He pulled with all his strength against a current so powerful it made steering either ship impossible. Slowly, the gap between the ships started to close as they budged closer with loud creaks and other grinding noises.

"Looks like I got careless," Captain Douglas thought to himself as he rocketed through the rain, "But I'm not done yet! Chapa!" As he called out for his cabin boy, a white streak shot from the navy ship, ricocheting off of nothing but the air itself, but still propelling him to reach Douglas even as the captain started his descent into the churning waters below.

"Don't worry, Captain!" the cabin boy said cheerfully as he seemingly flew through the air. "I'll give you a boost!" Air-dashing behind Captain Douglas, Chapa placed both of his feet on the captain's back. "**Geppou**!" The same technique that allowed the cabin boy to leap off the air itself rocketed Captain Douglas in the opposite direction back towards the ship. "Don't worry, Captain, I'll catch up in no time!"

"Good work, Chapa! We'll beat these pirates yet!" Douglas gave a quick thumbs-up of approval as he plummeted head-first back towards the ship.

Hammie saw Douglas flying back towards the ship out of the corner of his eye, but his hands were still full saving both ships. "Hey guys!" Hammie tried to call out to the rest of his crew. "I've kind of got my hands full making sure we all don't drown. Can someone watch my back?" No answer as Jude was nowhere to be seen, Brody was stranded at the helm, and the other three paid no mind as they blasted and beat marines. "Guys?" Hammie called out nervously.

"It looks like you still have yet to earn the true sign of a captain: the respect of your crew!" Douglas exclaimed. With both fists outstretched at his target, he rocketed through the air like a superhero. "**Douglas ****Meteor**!"

Suddenly, a figure leapt out of the crowd towards Douglas to meet him in midair. "Finally," Takashi said with sword already drawn, "Something larger than a drop of water."

"**Douglas ****Move ****Cancel**!" The captain rapidly somersaulted in midair, not wanting to be sliced in half on his trajectory back to the ship. Instead, as Takashi slashed at Douglas, the captain clapped his hands together on the blade itself. "**Douglas ****Sword ****Catch**!" Takashi's weapon now caught, he made the mistake of making eye contact with the captain, who stared back with a fire that seemed to pierce Takashi's soul. "**Douglas ****Disarming ****Glance**!" Before Takashi could figure out what happened, his hands were empty, Douglas having wrenched his weapon from him while he was distracted and tossed it to the side. "**Douglas ****Kick**!" His opponent thoroughly disabled, Douglas's leg shot up and kicked Takashi across the ship towards his sword (after all, Douglas didn't want to deprive a swordsman of his honor), landing gracefully on the deck in full pose. "Where were we?"

Just as he got ready to charge the captain again, two massive tree trunk arms clamped around him, "Now, now, no moving around. Doctor's orders," Doc grinned in his massive, steroid-boosted muscular form, confident he had a firm grip on the marine captain.

"Unfortunately, Doctor, I must insist on a second opinion," Douglas quickly snapped back. "You see I kept my body healthy in the academy through rigorous exercise and physically intense extra curriculars…" Whether it was the rain or simply a looser grip than he thought, Douglas quickly slipped out of the hulking doctor's grasp and dashed behind him, throwing his own arms around Doc's waist, "…like wrestling, which by the way in my class was categorized by skill not weight." Doc's current size didn't matter, as Douglas knew exactly how to use his opponent's weight to his advantage, grappling Doc and throwing him backwards, slamming him into the deck. "**Douglas ****Suplex**!" The Doc stunned for the moment, Douglas stood up to admire his handiwork. "Not to mention I've already had my apple for the day, Doctor."

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused Douglas to whip around, staring down the twin barrels of Michael's pistols. "How about these apples?" Michael laughed maniacally as he unloaded several explosions at point-blank range into Douglas's chest.

His smile quickly vanished, however, when the smoke cleared and Douglas was not only still standing, but there wasn't a scratch or blemish on his perfectly chiseled abs. "**Douglas** **Iron ****Chest**! Because when you take pride in your appearance, you should be prepared to protect it! I guess by that rule you needn't worry about attacks hitting you in the face though."

"That's just hittin' below the belt," Michael protested. "I'm the only one who's supposed to resort to cheap shots around here!"

"In that case, I'll meet your expectations with something more direct!" Douglas's leg whipped around, threatening to catch Michael in the side of his head. "**Douglas ****Roundhouse-**"

His foot never connected though, as a giant monkey wrench clamped around Douglas's outstretched leg, stopping the attack. "Sorry about that," Hammie politely apologized, "but I'm all done now. Shall we?" Without a hint of malice in his voice, Hammie took Douglas by the clamped leg and slammed him into the decks of both ships a few times.

Hammie had finished his project just in time, rope intertwined between the railings both ships, knotted so tightly it was as if the ships were somehow sewn together. Suddenly, both ships were sailing on a steep incline, having just entered the reversed river. There was little room on either side between the ship and rock, but the ships still fit side-by-side as they both traversed the mountain. And despite gravity's objections, both ships raced even faster than before up the mountainside, stone arches whizzing over the tops of the two ships.

While Hammie and Douglas traded blows alone, Michael, Doc, and Takashi got to their feet. "Damn bastard got away," Michael spat, "an' I was winnin' too. Now who'm I s'posed to blow up?"

Doc shook off the dizziness from his head hitting the deck and picked up his sledgehammer, "Pipe down, Michael, we've still got plenty of soldiers to take care of. They haven't quite learned how to stay down yet."

"I guess blowin' up a few nameless mooks isn't me normal glass o' whiskey, but it'll have to do," Michael cracked his neck and loosened his shoulders as he twirled his Boomers in anticipation. "Speakin' o'which, where are all the nameless mooks?"

Doc looked around, equally confused, "Looks like they're all either going after Brody or backing off. Figure they've had enough?"

Takashi, having remained silent until now, took his sword and assumed a defensive stance, seemingly staring down the air itself.

Michael raised a nonexistent eyebrow, "What is it, Takashi?"

For a raging battle up a rising rapid in a storm, things grew suspiciously quiet on the three's end of the ship. Takashi quickly raised his sword to parry what seemed to be nothing. Suddenly, someone suddenly appeared in the air above him, kicking down and hoping to catch the swordsman off-guard.

"What the…? You!" Despite having attacked Takashi, Michael and Doc were the ones surprised by Chapa's sudden appearance, having remembered their last encounter with the at-the-time seemingly ordinary cabin boy.

"This'll be even easier than last time," Chapa grinned, raring for a fight.

"As if ye lil' crap-stain!" Michael scowled. "I went easy on ye befor', but this time I ain't goin' to hold back!"

"Since when have you ever held back just because it was a kid you were beating up?" Doc interjected.

"Quiet ye bleedin' heart!" the gunner snapped back at the doctor. "Whose side are ye on, anyway?"

Takashi had no interest in witty banter as he rushed forward with his sword in one hand, and another blade salvaged from the marines in the other.

Chapa wasted no time in setting off a flurry of kicks in Takashi's direction, still confident even unarmed. "**Rankyaku**!" With each arcing kick, Chapa let loose a piercing shockwave that might as well have been a blade on its own. This attack had caught Takashi off-guard last time, but since he was expecting it, Takashi barely managed to parry the air blades, though couldn't find an opening to counter with. "**Soru**!" When the barrage of blades stopped, Chapa was nowhere to be seen, having instantly vanished from his former position. When Takashi finally sensed the boy's presence it was too late. "**Shigan**!" The attack that pierced his back near his heart felt like a bullet or knife, but as Chapa withdrew his arm it turned out to be only his rigid index finger soaked with blood. Takashi doubled over in pain. Chapa had managed to nick a major vital point, one Takashi couldn't just ignore and continue as he fell to his knees.

Michael wasted no time in unloading a barrage of explosions on Chapa, but it didn't matter. "**Kami-e**!" Explosions went off around Chapa left and right, but they always seemed to just miss him as his body swayed in the wind.

Frustrated, Michael kept firing until it happened: the _other_ familiar click from his Boomer. "I was wonderin' when that was gonna happen." The gun backfired, the explosion throwing Michael back and knocking him out of commission.

"The more you use your guns, the more likely they'll backfire on you," Chapa stated smiling. "That's your weakness. Well, one of them anyway. It's in the top ten percent for you at least."

Something slammed down on Chapa from above as Doc's large, muscled hand pinned the boy to the ground, sledgehammer in the other hand. "I really hate doing this to a kid, but you brought it on yourself." Doc raised his sledgehammer up and brought it down on Chapa's head.

"**Tekkai**!" When the hammer hit, it gave a loud clang as if it struck solid metal, certainly not the noise Doc was expecting. He raised his hammer to see Chapa perfectly fine and a slight dent in his precious Annie. "**Soru**!" Whether Chapa teleported or simply found a way to wriggle out of Doc's grasp was unimportant because either way Chapa was no longer there. Doc sighed, remembering their last battle and knowing exactly what was about to happen. "**Shigan**!" Sure enough, two strikes that felt like bullets but were really just Chapa's index fingers pierced the back of his knees.

Chapa quickly dashed away, smirking at the three pirates he easily beat again. "If the lot of you couldn't beat the **Six ****Styles ****of ****Rokushiki** before, what makes you think you stand a chance now? I can pierce any defense you've got with **Rankyaku **and **Shigan**, endure any attack with **Tekkai** and **Kami-e**, and fly circles around all of you with **Soru** and **Geppou**!"

Suddenly, two large blue webbed hands clasped around Chapa, picking him up before he had a chance to react. "Put me down, you pirate-!"

"_**SHUT **__**UP!**__**"**_ Brody snarled, the bestial growl intimidating the cabin boy into silence for the time being. "Do you know what today is?"

"Um… Saturday?" Chapa guessed, in truth worrying less about the date and more about the great white shark fishman that had ahold of him, his grip too tight to wriggle out of.

"Today's my wedding day," Brody growled. "Where do you think someone would want to be on their wedding day?"

"Um…" Chapa tried to think for a minute, a difficult task with those two bestial eyes staring him down.

"Come on, it's not a trick question," Brody grunted.

"With their wife?" Chapa offered.

Brody grinned, his artificial smile even more unnerving than the natural sharp teeth of a fishman. "Very good. Do you know where I'm not?"

Chapa gulped, "With your wife?"

"3 for 3. We got a damn boy genius over here. Now, final round. How do you think it makes me feel spending my wedding day getting chased away from my bride by marines?" Brody asked with his voice becoming more angry with each word and his eyes becoming feral slits as he spoke.

"Mad?" Chapa squeaked in fear.

Brody jerked Chapa forward until their faces were only inches apart, _**"**__**PRETTY **__**DAMN **__**PISSED **__**OFF!**__**" **_he roared. "You can fly, huh? Let's see you fly back here!" Brody punted Chapa like a football, sending the cabin boy screaming into the distance, but he wasn't quite done yet. "**Fishman ****Karate**…"

It took a few seconds of screaming in fear for Chapa to get ahold of himself and **Geppou** himself to safety in midair, reflecting on his situation. "That was close. I just froze there. I've never seen a fishman before. Aw, man, if Captain finds out about this, I'll never hear the end of it! What should I do? Should I go back now? Should I wait and see if Captain takes care of them first? Ugh, I'll never live up to Captain if I can't even… what's that?" His internal dilemma was briefly interrupted as a ball of water larger than he was launched up from the ship and exploded in his face.

Meanwhile, Hammie and Douglas traded blows on the rails of their respective ships, Douglas with his bare hands, and Hammie armed with hammers and wrenches.

"**Douglas ****Roundhouse ****Kick**!" Douglas spun around to deliver a kick to Hammie's face, but Hammie quickly knocked the leg away with a hammer to Douglas's ankle, causing the marine captain to sharply rotate in the other direction, attempting to deliver the kick from the opposite angle.

"Can I ask you something?" Hammie managed to speak in between blocking the flurry of kicks from Douglas.

"Isn't it a little late for words?" Douglas replied.

"Well, I was just wondering," Hammie said innocently, as if he forgot they were fighting for their lives on ships rapidly rising up a mountain. "Why do so many people just call out their attacks?"

"Come again? **Douglas ****Chop**!" Douglas broke his kick barrage to leap into the air, somersault, and bring his hand down Hammie's head.

"Like that!" Hammie pointed out as he caught Douglas's chop with his monkey wrench and hammer, crossed to catch and lock Douglas's hand. "Wouldn't that be kind of a handicap? Warning your opponent beforehand?"

"Nonsense!" Douglas grinned as he somersaulted around the opposite direction, his leg spinning and catching Hammie under his guard, kicking the unsuspecting pirate cleanly in the chin. "The greatest fighters boldly proclaim their attacks because it raises their fighting spirit and strengthens their attacks tenfold!"

Hammie moved his jaw around to make sure it wasn't broken, but seemed otherwise unphased and more curious than anything, "Really?"

"Of course! **Douglas ****Barrage**!" Douglas let loose both his arms in a flurry of punches. "Well, that, and copyright issues."

Hammie threw up the coil of rope at his side and let Douglas's rapid attacks entangle themselves. "Hm… Well, I guess it couldn't hurt to try it." Hammie reared back his fist and swung at his trapped opponent. "Hammie Punch?"

Douglas didn't even bother dodging or bracing himself as the half-hearted fist tapped his cheek. "That was weaker than your normal punch! I barely felt that!" he scolded.

Hammie shook his head, "Yeah, I don't think this is going to work for me."

"Nonsense, you just have to have more confidence in your fighting spirit!" Douglas tried to break Hammie's rope through sheer strength, but even against his strength the rope barely budged.

"How do I do that?" Hammie asked as he swung his hammer around at his entangled opponent.

"You have to summon all of your courage from within," Douglas reared his head back to dodge the hammer swing, "find the things you desire most in life," still unable to wrestle free from the rope, Douglas kicked Hammie's chest and leapt into the air, "put everything you are on the line," when the rope inevitably pulled him back, the marine captain thrust himself headfirst at his opponent, "and most importantly believe in yourself!" Douglas's head slammed into Hammie's, and the two recoiled in dizziness.

"That makes no sense," said Hammie shaking off the possible concussion.

"Those are just the words of someone inexperienced in true fighting!" Both hands still clasped together by rope, Douglas swung with both arms at once, "That or maybe you just need to work on your attack names."

Hammie recoiled from the vicious, two-handed blow to his face as Douglas prepared a similar strike, "How do you mean?"

"Well," Douglas slammed his fists together into Hammie a couple more times, "**Douglas ****Punch** is reflective of my own personal path to perfection, as I spent years perfecting the most precise punch possible to pulverize my opponents." He grabbed Hammie by the collar of his shirt, holding him aloft. "Here, try again. Free shot this time." Douglas paused in his otherwise relentless assault to make good on his offer.

"I'm not sure about this," Hammie said with uncertainty.

"We're already putting both our lives on the line in a battle to determine our respective fates. This is the perfect time to try newfound abilities out!"

Beaten, bruised, and in the grip of his opponent, Hammie merely shrugged, "If you say so. Maybe I should use my full name?"

"If you think that'll help."

"Here goes. Hamlet Punch!" Hammie swung a hook at Douglas, the marine captain once again making no effort to dodge or brace himself as this punch was just enough to get him to let go of Hammie.

"Well, that worked a little better. Still needs work, but on a different topic, your name is Hamlet?" Douglas inquired as he charged shoulder-first into Hammie's gut.

Hammie rolled off Douglas's back, his wrench catching hold of the rope entangling Douglas's arms, "Yeah, but really everyone just calls me Hammie. Hamlet just sounds kind of weird to me."

"I don't know, I think there's some serious potential there." Even as he spoke, Hammie was busy lifting Douglas with his wrench and slamming him into the decks of both ships as well as sliding him across the railing of the navy ship. "The **Hamlet ****Hammer**, for example, could be your new signature move. It sounds perfect!"

"So alliteration makes attacks stronger?" Hammie lifted Douglas in front of him and with one heavy kick pushed Douglas out of the rope and his grip.

The force of the kick threw Douglas back, his trajectory only stopped by his own mast, which slammed into his back. "Well, it doesn't hurt. The most important thing is feeling comfortable with your own attacks. For example, despite the simplicity of it, my strongest attack is still…" Douglas charged back forward and reared his fist back for his signature attack, "**Douglas ****Punch**!" Douglas's megaton punch struck true once again, but instead of flying off the ship, Hammie's body jerked violently, his leg wrapped in the rope connecting the two ships.

"Clever. Bracing yourself with the rigging. You should be more careful though. Any normal person would've still been sent flying and their leg would've been ripped off as well. Or the rigging could just break."

"Good point," Hammie conceded the possibility. "Glad it worked though."

"Indeed. Well, this has been a rousing battle, but we're nearing the top of the mountain. After all this, do you still think you can beat me?"

Hammie nodded, "I was kind of hoping for that, yeah."

"Well then," Douglas stepped onto the rigging in front of Hammie and wrapped his own foot in it to match his opponent, "I guess the only sensible thing is to settle this with one final attack." The two now stood fixed in place just within punching distance of each other.

"And how do we do that?" Hammie asked skeptically.

"We've both been conserving our energy for the long haul, hoping the other will run out of steam first." Douglas clenched his fist, posing dramatically. "What we need to do is put all our energy into one final strike!"

"Okaaay…" Hammie stared blankly.

"Come on then, Hamlet! If you think you can oppose the World Government, sail the seas competing with the worst pirates on the Grand Line, and find the legendary treasure One Piece, you'll have to best me first!"

"I don't want to do all that," Hammie said plainly. "I just want to find my dad."

"Either way, that involves going through me. Prepare yourself!" Douglas loudly challenged.

Hammie sighed, "All right, if you say so. But I'm not doing the attack-name-thingy yet, I think I need to practice more with that."

"If that is your wish! Ready or not, here I come!" Douglas reared his arm back for the windup and poured everything he had into this one punch, the rain drops that touched it quickly evaporating into steam as his fist charge forward, "**DOUGLAS ****PUNCH**!"

"_**THIS IS RIDICULOUS**_!" Hammie returned the favor with his own fist, focusing on pouring his strength into that one punch to match Douglas.

The two fists rocketed past each other, striking both of their targets square in the face. The punches that would have normally sent each other flying to opposite sides of the mountain collided like freight trains. Both bodies tried desperately to fly off into the storm clouds, testing the strength of the ropes tying them down to their absolute limits. Finally, the same rope that Douglas with all his strength couldn't break, the same rope that raised a three-story houseboat from the depths of the ocean and hurled it through the air, finally snapped. Most of their momentum had already been absorbed by the rope, so instead of flying off into the distance, both captains were merely thrown across the decks of their respective ships, colliding with the masts. For a short time, both lay completely still.

"Are you still conscious, Captain Hammie?" Douglas managed to ask as he looked up.

Hammie groaned in pain, "Yeah, but I'm telling my limbs to move and they're not listening. You?"

"Hah! Same," the marine's laughter was cut short by several massive pains in his chest.

"So… What does that mean for us?" Hammie wondered.

"I can't remember the last time I've been challenged to this level," despite his pain and supposed mission failure, Douglas couldn't help but smile. "It has been a real honor, Captain Hamlet!"

"Well, I guess that means I win in the end?"

"Don't get so ahead of yourself!" Douglas cautioned. "What makes you think this isn't a draw?"

"Well, for starters, I've still got a crew left." Sure enough, even though Hammie lay near unconscious in no shape to fight or do much at all, standing around him were Brody, Michael, Takashi, and the Doc, having run out of soldiers to fight. Every marine was either incapacitated, overboard, or retreated.

Douglas looked at his surroundings to confirm that his opponent's victory was indeed absolute, and burst out laughing. "I suppose the day is indeed yours! Come to think of it, I haven't seen my first mate and she was rather anxious to fight yours as well. Vezzali?" he called out.

At his call, the door to the cabin of the Patchwork Princess opened, and a very disheveled Vezzali limped out, her uniform ripped in several places and her mask completely gone. She stepped out into the rain with messed hair and a glazed look in her eyes. "Y-yes?"

"What happened to you? Your clothes are all ripped and you look like you've been in the worst fight of your life."

"I-I do?" Vezzali half-responded before coming to her senses and noting her surroundings. "Yes. That's exactly what happened," she said blank-faced.

"Well, were you victorious?" Douglas had to ask.

"Um…" Vezzali started to respond just as Jude followed out, smiling confidently. One look at that smile was enough for the normally confident Vezzali to faint into unconsciousness, fortunately onto her own ship.

"I'm going to take that as a no," said Douglas.

"Hammie," Brody said to his captain, "I don't mean to rush you or anything, but we're going to hit the top any minute now, and we still don't have a way to turn the ship."

"Ugh… I thought of a way earlier, but now my head's going all fuzzy-wuzzy…" Hammie slowly faded through the concussion and fatigue.

The still boosted Doc stepped up and pulled a syringe from his coat pocket. "Here, this'll hurt like hell later, but it'll get you going for now." Apparently not worrying about being gentle, Doc stabbed Hammie's shoulder with the needle.

"YOWZA!" Instantly Hammie leapt to his feet as if someone had lit a fire where he sat. New energy pouring in to him, Hammie instantly set to work. "All right, any marines that are left go back on their ship. Douglas, it was nice meeting you, and I hope you survive this, though honestly I'm not sure how. Brody, can you redirect the currents with your Fishman Karate?"

Everyone except Doc were stunned at Hammie's sudden recovery, but with the impending doom Brody managed to put aside his amazement to respond, "I can, but not enough to turn us safely."

"Every little bit helps," he quickly turned to the next crew member. "Doc, I need you at the helm to keep us steady, and any more of those boosters you can give us will help."

"Okay, but don't blame me later when your brain tries to strangle itself with your spine," he warned against any more of his drug cocktails.

"Jude, Takashi, on my signal I need you to cut all the ropes holding us to the marine ship." It was impossible to gauge their reactions since neither Takashi's stoicism and Jude's pokerface gave any, but nonetheless they both seemed to get ready. "Michael," Hammie started.

"Now see here, ye bloody fascist," interrupted the one person on the crew who would apparently rather die than be told what to do. "Jus' cause yer the captain and yer feelin' all high and mighty don't mean ye can just tell ol' Mikey what to do. I'm a free spirit, and I'll do whatever I…"

"I need you to load all the gunpowder we have into all the cannons and point them at the marine ship. Please," Hammie added quickly before Michael could talk them all into a shipwreck.

Michael paused, his original train of thought gone, "I see this as the start of a good workin' relationship." He grinned madly as he skipped down to the cannons.

"Just please don't fire until I give you the signal!" Hammie shouted after him.

"No promises," was the sing-song response from down below. "Uh… Hammie?" Michael called back, much less cheerful than before. "Ye might want to come see this."

Hammie poked his head down one of the many holes on deck. Down below, Michael was pointing out one of several large rifts in the hull of the ship. Not just battle damage, but more and more of the planks were popping loose every second. The ship was falling apart at the seams, slowly now but growing faster each second, cracking open like an egg. "So ye want to jump overboard or wait till we completely fall apart?"

Michael glanced back at the captain, expecting to see him give up or break down. Instead, Hammie took a deep breath and quickly surveyed the damages, even as they grew. A loose board on the inside of the ship popped loose sending a nail flying straight at Michael. Before the gunner could get a new unwanted piercing, Hammie's arm shot out and caught the nail inches from Michael's face. "Neither," came the response. "Just get the cannons ready. I'll take care of the ship." Hammie grabbed every spare coil of rope, board, and nail he could possibly carry and hurried back up to the deck.

Quickly hooking a grappling hook to the yard of the mast, Hammie tied the rope around his waist, giving it a few good tugs to make sure that wouldn't fall apart as well. He tightened both his bandanna and tool belt firmly, secured the bundle of wood over his shoulder, and leapt off the side of the ship.

"That's my brother," Jude grinned as he stood with Takashi on the side of the ship, waiting for the supposed signal to cut the ropes attaching them to the marine ship. "He couldn't perform a puppet show in front of schoolchildren without falling to pieces, but when it's five minutes till curtain on opening night and the set is in shambles, there's only one person to rely on."

The rope strained but held as Hammie was suspended in the air along his ship, nothing between him and the churning waters below except the occasional sharp rock along the shoreline. Wasting no time, Hammie hurled several boards at once at the ship. The boards slammed into the hull along its growing cracks. Before the boards could fall into the ocean, Hammie tossed several nails into the air and swatted them all with his hammer, imbedding each one into the wood and nailing it to the ship.

A few tugs let him move to the bow and the stern, performing similar long-range repairs all along the ship. The other side, however, was blocked by the marine ship, and Hammie's method wouldn't work there. So he planted his feet firmly on the front of the ship before cutting himself loose. The only thing making this possible was that he was standing on the front side of the ship while it was on an incline, giving him at least some ground to work with. He nailed another hook firmly to the side of the ship, took another deep breath which unfortunately happened to be mixed with the salt water of the river crashing on his back, and leapt off the side of the ship, rope firmly in hand.

He fell along the side of the ship, roaring waters merely inches below him. As the rope quickly grew taut, Hammie swung himself around the rear of the ship, bungeeing back up around the other side, the rope circling around the ship behind him. When it didn't look like he'd quite make it all the way back up to the front of the ship, Hammie grabbed onto one of the cannon port holes and thrusted himself the rest of the way.

Michael jumped backward when he saw Hammie grab the side of one of his cannon ports and rocket past the rest. The shock was momentary, as he was still struggling to get the cannons into position. With this incline and turbulence, the three old cannons they had on board kept sliding to the back of the ship. "Come on, stand still for Uncle Mikey…" the cannoneer pleaded as he pushed the cannon back up the incline for the fifth time. "Stop rollin' around now. Almost there." He angled the cannon into position just as it slipped his grip and rolled back with the other cannons. "BLOODYSONUVA…" Michael cursed as he angrily grabbed his one still-working Boomer and blew three large smoking holes in the floor. "Now see what ye made me do?" This time when he grabbed the cannons, they managed to stay in place thanks to the holes in the floor holding them steady. "Tha's better," Michael sighed with relief. "Now let's go blow somthin' up."

Hammie circled the ship twice more, wrapping the rope around it until there was none left. Standing on the hull of the ship, back to the pounding waves ahead of them, Hammie tied the ropes together, keeping the ship from falling apart. Hammie tugged on the ropes with all his might, making his raw strength the only thing keeping the ship together.

It was just in time, as both ships finally reached the top of the mountain and careened high into the air high above Reverse Mountain's peak. "NOW!" Hammie managed to yell now that his mouth wasn't full of salt water.

"A tragedy, such a performance and no real audience to perform to." On cue, Jude and Takashi, who despite the turbulence stood casually at opposite ends of the ship's railing, drew their swords, Jude tapping his shoes to the deck as he warmed himself up. "But oh well. If what we need is a stage-shattering performance, then that's what Jude Carson will give. _**Dance **__**Floor **__**Inferno**_!" Jude's shoes slid across the railing along with the tip of his sword, and despite the rain and the wet wood, the friction was enough to start a fire that danced along with Jude's blade and his feet. What ropes he didn't immediately sever were now set aflame as Takashi followed suit with his blade. "**Sujigiri**!" Takashi treated the ropes as he would've the tough sinews of raw meat, cleaving through the remaining ropes with a single strike, finally completely severing the ships from each other.

All three cannons exploded at once, packing far too much gunpowder than they should have been able to take on, blasting the marine ship away as well as propelling the Patchwork Princess to change its angle mid-air. Hammie really hoped that the marines on the other ship would survive this, but for the moment he was having enough trouble keeping his own ship together. The Patchwork Princess managed to stay in one piece as long as Hammie and his rope coiled around her and held the ship together, but all that leverage that gravity had given Hammie earlier now worked in the opposite direction. The ship held, but now threatened to flatten Hammie when they both crashed back onto the mountain.

As the Patchwork Princess plummeted back to earth, something reached down and swung Hammie back up to the deck of the ship. The captain turned to see Doc with his hammer giving him the reach he needed to scoop Hammie out of the air and back on deck. "Don't give me any crap about orders, there's nothing to steer in the air," Doc said as he held onto the ship for dear life. Hammie silently thanked the doctor as he held the grip on the ropes that kept the Patchwork Princess together.

Meanwhile, Brody kneeled on the lowest deck of the ship he could reach. He knew the principles and theory behind the technique he needed to execute, but this was the first time he'd ever had a chance to use it. "We are not crashing into the ocean like a rock," Brody breathed deeply and attempted to meditate to himself despite the ship falling through the air. "We are like any other sea creature, returning to the waters. **Fishman ****Karate ****Secret ****Technique**…" Both palms outstretched on the deck floor, "**Diving ****Whale**!"

Everyone on the ship wisely braced themselves for the ship's crash-landing, but the impact while still rough was much softer than anyone could ever imagine, as if the current had actually cushioned the blow to the ship. His main role done, Brody rushed to the deck to see the ship sliding down the mountain on its one downward current. "We did it…" Brody said astonished, "We actually did it! We're on the Grand Line!" The storm seemingly instantly vanished as the view stretched on for miles to the wide open sea.

"HAHA! Watch out, Grand Line, yer worst nightmare is back in the game," Michael cheered, "and this time ye won't be rid of Michael Collins so easily!"

"If I weren't a doctor, I'd swear I was dreaming," Doc muttered as he held on for dear life. "I still don't believe it. We're actually back."

Takashi remained silent, but stared off into the distance as if he could see beyond the horizon at the challenges that awaited them all.

"If all the world's a stage," despite his attempts to remain calm and composed, even Jude couldn't help but smile widely at the sight, "then I'm about to take center spotlight."

Hammie's arms still held onto the ropes for dear life to keep the ship together, but even still he found time to enjoy the moment as well, though silently. _Is __this __what __life __is __like __as __a __pirate __captain? __Or __is __it __just __like __this __coming __to __the __Grand __Line? __Can __the __Grand __Line __really __be __more __exciting __than __this? _Hammie stared off into the horizon. _Either __way, __there__'__s __no __turning __back __now. __If __you__'__re __still __out __there, __dad, __I__'__ll __find __you..._

The Patchwork Princess and its crew sailed down the mountain, feeling ready for any challenge that awaited them. But not even they could realize the adventure that lurked just ahead…

* * *

_Several days later…_

Groggily, his eyes opened. His brain overloaded itself trying to remember those moments just before he lost consciousness. Or maybe that searing pain and confusion was just the concussion.

"Captain! Glad to see you're awake, sir!" the familiar female voice sounded.

Captain Douglas awoke to find Vezzali in casual dress standing at attention. He was laying in the familiar bed of a marine hospital, one of the private rooms they usually gave to marines of high rank. A quick glance to the opposite side of the hospital bed found his cabin boy Chapa sleeping on the couch.

"He recovered fast, but insisted on staying by your side until you awoke. He managed to stay awake for about 45 hours straight before he finally fell asleep. You've been unconscious for about five days total, sir," Vezzali explained.

Douglas smiled warmly at the loyalty of his young apprentice. "And the rest of the crew?" The memory started coming back to him, but after he was beaten on Reverse Mountain by the innocent young man he couldn't remember much.

"Eight men are still MIA, sir. 27 men are critically injured, but they're stable and will eventually recover. The rest managed to suffer only minor wounds," Vezzali shuffled a stack of papers that she read the report from. "No confirmed casualties, though."

"Simply amazing," Douglas remarked proudly. "That any of us could have survived that ordeal, much less with no casualties."

"It is simply a testament to your ability as captain, sir," stated Vezzali.

"How did we survive?" Douglas couldn't help but ask.

Vezzali blinked for a moment, surprised. "It was you, sir."

"Me?"

"Yes, sir," Vezzali nodded, "Even though we were defeated and you were in no shape to move, when the pirates blasted our ship it crashed onto the side of the mountain. Despite your injuries, you immediately leapt off the ship and braced it by yourself. You directed and slowed the ship's descent into something that was at least survivable. While the ship itself was damaged beyond repair in the end, we did manage to make it into the sea. After we fished your unconscious body out of the water, we floated in the Calm Belt for a few days, the seastone covering of the ship protecting us from the Sea Kings who dwell there. Chapa, who fell overboard in the battle, managed to find us, and promptly left to find assistance. About two days later, we were picked up by a nearby marine ship and towed to the nearest base."

"Very thorough, First Mate Vezzali," Douglas gave a thumbs up approval, which surprisingly hurt.

"Just doing my duty, sir."

"And that young man and his ship?" Douglas asked

"The _pirate __captain_," Vezzali stressed the word, "And his crew have been reported to the proper authorities. When you and all of our personnel are healed to the point of service we are to return to our station in North Blue."

"What?" Douglas shot upright, "He's just a kid! You've condemned him to being on the wrong side of the law forever!"

"With respect, Captain," Vezzali interrupted, "Proper protocol dictates that we should have reported them earlier. They are, in fact, pirates, no matter how inexperienced, and we are, in fact, marines sworn to hunt and capture said pirates."

"That's not the point!" Douglas objected, "We still could have saved them."

"Besides, _sir_, I did need to fill out a full report about why a captain was floating on a destroyed marine vessel unconscious in the middle of the Calm Belt."

Douglas's eyes narrowed at his all too efficient and pragmatic lieutenant, unable to come up with a decent objection to his subordinate's actions. Quickly failing the staring contest with the first mate, Vezzali handed a few of the papers from her stack. "Here are the initial bounty posters. The final bounties aren't finalized, so if you like you can argue with the bounty officer."

The still bedridden marine reluctantly took the papers: a series of bounty posters fresh off the presses.

"And no, I didn't come up with the name," Vezzali quickly added as her captain looked over the bounty posters.

"That's a shame," Douglas responded. "It's appropriate, given what little we know of their potential record." Turning the page to the final poster, Douglas's eyes widened as soon as he read the bottom of the poster. "Vezzali! This name, where did you get it?"

The first mate raised an eyebrow. Apparently there was something in the posters her captain saw that she couldn't. "It was pulled from official birth records. Why? Is it important?"

"Chapa!" Douglas suddenly called out to his sleeping cabin boy.

Chapa jumped up from the couch to stand at attention, still half-asleep as he saluted, "All done pooping the clean deck, captain!"

Douglas ignored Chapa's ramblings as he stepped out of bed and began getting dressed into uniform. "Round up as many able troops as quickly as possible, and get us a ship ready to sail. We're going after them."

"Aye aye, Captain!" In an instant, Chapa vanished, having dashed off to fulfill his captain's demands.

"But sir, our orders!" Vezzali tried to object before Douglas interrupted.

"Are secondary to the peace and order to the world! Let's go!" The captain strode out the hospital door with his subordinates in tow, leaving the bounty posters behind. The one on top showed the sketch of the innocent-looking pirate captain with the bottom caption reading:

**Dead or Alive**

**Captain of the Shipwreck Pirates**

**Hamlet "Hammie" Shakespeare**

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Well, that is officially the end of the arc. Not the story, mind you, just the arc. And to think, this was supposed to be a short prologue. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the story. That kind of feedback is what motivates me and I'm sure many other authors to continue their stories.

I'll be taking a break from this story for awhile. Ever since the timeskip in the One Piece canon, I have to rearrange some things for the next arc, since currently this story takes place just after the timeskip (If Oda's changed certain things too much, I might scrap that idea and make the story take place in a different time period relative to the current One Piece canon. It's still early enough that that's possible.) When I resume, the next arc will have a separate entry on .

In the meantime, while I wait for Oda to crush all my carefully planned plots, I'll probably try to get fics for other things started as well, so keep on the lookout for that as well.

Once again, thank you all for reading!


	21. BONUS CHAPTER: The Forgotten

At the Bottom of Jaggerjaw Bay…

The water had finally settled around the coral spires and shipwrecks of Jaggerjaw Bay. While the rest of the island participated in the wedding above, a forgotten figure lay motionless at its bottom. The bright red armored body of Torteau was sprawled out on in the sand in typical fashion for a decapitated body. The head of the crab man rested several yards away, wearing the same flabbergasted look it had when it was severed from its body.

A sneeze interrupted the serenity of the water, a few telltale bubbles rising to the surface. Slowly one of the eyestalks of the severed head dared to open, scanning the area for any sign. "There is no one…" the head spoke before both of its eyes opened, its moustache twitching in indignation, "Does my body not even get a proper burial? Shouldn't someone be searching for me at least by now?" Satisfied he was completely alone, Torteau grunted as several small legs and two tiny crab pincers popped out of his body. "Even if they did know that decapitation isn't fatal to us crabs, what with all the vital organs being stored in our heads, shouldn't someone at least have come looking for me? I am the chef after all."

Torteau swam with his new tiny legs over to what once was his body. "Well, I suppose this shows how much I'm appreciated around here. Let them scrape together peasant dishes for all I care! I will simply be appreciated elsewhere!"

The frustrated crab got to work burrowing in the sand to bury the shell, all the while filling the silence with his own somber melody…

"_Look at this shell,_

_Broken and cracked._

_Wouldn't you think that they'd cut me some slack?_

_Wouldn't you think that the chef_

_Would be a bit respected."_

"_I miss my stove_

_and recipes bold_

_How many dishes did my kitchen hold?_

_Looking at my body here you'd think_

_What should I've expected?"_

"_I've got sirloins and fillet's a-plenty_

_I've got chocolates and cheeses galore_

_You want dessert courses? I've got 20!"_

"_But who cares?_

_Who needs them_

_I want more"_

_I want to be where the people are_

_I want to see _

_Want to see them cooking_

_Over a boiling pot_

_Strung up by their feet!"_

"_Killing them too soon will spoil the meal_

_Patience is required for freshness, tenderness_

_for the moistest, delicious_

_divine dish of meat."_

"_Sprinkle some parsley_

_and marinating brine_

_Serve with a 15-year glass of red wine."_

_A delicious supper_

_Pass the black pepper_

_Part of my meal."_

"_But everyone looked _

_At their precious cook _

_As a diseased animal._

_I cooked their meals_

_What a raw deal_

_For them to stab _

_Me in the back_

_With verbal attacks_

_And they all called me a cannibal."_

"_For eating humans_

_But I'm not human_

_I'm a crab"_

"_They're not ready to know what my palate knows_

_They're all philistines, idiots and apes_

_If they made themselves cereal_

_It'd probably burn_

_When's will they learn?_

_When will I eat_

_Again some delicious human meat?"_

"_Surely not here_

_Guess I'll disappear_

_Because I deserve more_

_Than to just settle the score_

_For part of my meal."_

His old shell buried, the bitter crab swam out into the open sea to seek his fortune elsewhere in the world, vowing never to return to the island again...

**Author's Notes:**

Bonus Chapter for you all this new year. Would have gotten this up at Christmas but I left my flash drive at work over the holidays.

Good news for you all: the second arc will start soon. The plan is currently to get the first chapter up on the 9th, my birthday, as a birthday present to you all (wait, that's not how it works). As for my previous concerns with continuity, I'll try to find a way to explain discrepancies, but in the end, there will likely be some contradictions. Oh well. I guess that's why it's called fanfiction.

I'll have the start of another story in a different shounen at the same time. I'll leave that as a surprise. Happy holidays everyone!


End file.
